D is for Dangerous
by SidMax
Summary: Jim has been expecting a meeting with Mycroft Holmes, but Mycroft is unable to make it. Anthea arrives instead with that annoying phone of hers. What might transpire after that?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Sherlock. It belongs to its respected owners Stephen Moffat and Mark Gatiss.

I may or may not continue this. I just wrote this to get it out of my system. Jim/Anthea is my second favorite ship and there are very few out there.

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><p>Jim Moriarty was standing calmly in the middle of a darkened warehouse as he waited. Normally he would be the one to keep others waiting, but this was a meeting he had been looking forward to for quite some time. He let the corner of his mouth twitch into arrogant half smile when he saw a black sedan heading toward him. <em>"The other Holmes brother."<em> The thought sparked a competitive interest in him and he readied himself for the entertaining conversation that was about to occur. Though his thoughts came to a rather disturbing halt when the back passenger door opened and a woman appeared. She shut the door behind her with one hand and the other holding a phone.

"What is this? Did the Ice Man feel that I am not worthy of his presence?" Jim asked in a lighter than air tone, but still audibly dissatisfied with the change in situation.

The woman looked up from her phone calmly. "Not all, Mr. Moriarty. He is unavoidably detained." She looked back at her phone, continuing the e-mail she was composing, and easily made her way over him. "However, he did want you to know that you did not go overlooked."

Jim watched her carefully and wondered what could possibly be holding up Mycroft Holmes. He had not set up any games lately. "Is that so?"

She lifted her gaze from her phone when she stopped a few feet away from him and gave him a short smile. "Yes. He was quite upset that he would have to reschedule your meeting." Her eyes fell back to the phone again.

Jim was starting to become annoyed with that phone. He always demanded the full attention of whoever he was talking to. "I never work on anyone's schedule." The words were low in volume and almost sinister. "Your boss should know that." The tone shifted again to be lighter and to appear friendly.

"He is well aware of your conditions, Mr. Moriarty, which is why I'm here." Her eyes did not leave the screen this time. "Shall I ask what day would be convenient for you, or will you contact him yourself?"

His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He had had enough of that phone.

She was too distracted to notice Jim's change in attitude and could do nothing to prevent him quickly snatching the phone out of her hands. At first she wanted to scream at him to give her the phone back, but Mycroft had warned her about him and decided to react much differently.

"Mr. Moriarty, might have I have that back?" She asked politely holding out her hand.

"Oh, no no. I quite like this arrangement much better." Jim flipped the phone in his hand looking at it briefly. He looked up at her and saw that she was becoming nervous. "Don't worry, my dear. There's nothing on this phone I don't already know." His thumb pressed the power button to turn it off and then he slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Yes, this is much better. I require a person's full attention."

She let her hand drop and took a deep breath. "All right, you have my attention. Shall we get back to business?"

Jim let himself smile a little at how she had changed. Less nervousness. He could physically see the boldness in her come out and replace the nerves. "Yes, to business. I will be contacting your employer. And do tell him that I do not like to be kept waiting."

She nodded keeping her eyes fixed on his. "Yes, sir. Anything else?" Her eyebrow quirked slightly to punctuate the question.

"I'll be keeping your phone as insurance." Jim replied sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "Just a little something."

"I cannot agree to that." She said as she absentmindedly took a step forward.

"Surely Mycroft Holmes can afford to get you another one." Jim watched her move toward him wondering what she was going to do. Most would have fled and accepted the loss.

"He could, but he would be most dissatisfied if I simply let you keep my phone." She held out her hand again. "Now, if you would hand me back my phone, we can both be on our way."

Jim took a step forward casually to almost close the space between them. He looked down at her and smirked. "Make me." His voice was dangerously low, but held no tone of danger.

She looked back at him studying his eyes for any clue of what he would do, but could find nothing that meant harm to her. The first thing she thought of was to try and take the phone by force, but she knew that he would overpower her easily and the proximity only prevented her from attacking him successfully.

Jim waited patiently watching the ideas flow through her head. There was one idea, however, that he did not see because as soon as she thought of it, she acted almost impulsively.

Her hands slid around to the back of his neck and she quickly pressed her lips to his before he had time to react. She was tense, only for a short moment before she relaxed knowing she would have a better chance at getting what she wanted.

He had not expected this, but returned her kiss without hesitation thinking that she would end it when he did. The kiss did not end there as he thought, but he felt the gap between them close as she pressed her body into his. Her fingers were threading into his hair and his focus was starting to shift from the little game of theirs to how warm and soft her lips were. He could not let his focus be shifted and refused to let a woman be the cause of it. His focus had almost returned back to normal, but was shifted again when he felt her bite his bottom lip and pull gently. That seemed to be the final straw for him. His hands slid beneath her open coat to rest on her hips as his tongue slipped from his mouth and into hers with no difficulty.

She did not even flinch once he started to respond entirely. This was the plan. To distract him and it seemed to be working. She had not thought it would work, but she had clearly been wrong. Once she felt his hands inside her coat and his tongue slipping past her lip effortlessly, she felt her pride start to swell, but pushed it back down. No early celebrations. She could celebrate after she had her phone back.

An unexpected moan slipped from her mouth when his arms winded around her waist and pull her closer to him. She felt embarrassed by it, but could not help enjoying the feeling. Her own tongue glided across his as her hands slid from hair and down his chest until she found the buttons of his jacket. They unfastened effortlessly and she soon could feel the soft cotton of his shirt under her fingertips. She deepened the kiss to try and further distract him. It earned her a love bite of her own, just like the one she had given him. A soft sigh escaped from her lungs while her hands roamed over his shirt carefully not wanting to seem too eager.

Jim felt a warmth starting to radiate from his body after hearing her moan and wanted more of it. His arms unwound themselves from around her waist and then slid his hands into her hair which surprised him. It felt like finely spun silk sliding between his fingers. He pressed himself closer to her, deepened the kiss further, and added more passion to it. His reward was another soft moan which stirred something in him. Her hands roaming over his chest felt like a teasing preview as to what they would feel like against his skin. He thought he might find out at this time.

The kiss was starting to make her mind go fuzzy. She could not hear anything beyond the small space they were in and she was finding the temptation to throw him in the back of the sedan growing stronger. Another embarrassing thought slipped into her mind. She had been kissed before, but nothing like this. Why did Jim Moriarty have to be the one to top everyone she had kissed? It should be wrong and not feel so amazing.

Soon she forced those thoughts away. One hand slipped down his chest to rest on his waist as the other carefully dipped into the pocket that held her phone. Her first two fingers trapped it and she wasted no time in sliding it out while stepping away from him.

His hands slipped from her hair as smoothly as they had in. The lack of warmth that was bordering on intense heat escaped and left her a slight chill that made her want to shiver. She kept her breathing in check, but could nothing about the flush that was sure to be on her face. He looked just as flushed as she imagined she did and could not stop the smirk that formed with a mind of its own.

"Thank you, Mr. Moriarty." She held up the phone for him to see before turning and walking back to the car.

Jim watched enter the sedan with his hands in his pockets again and a playful smile. "Another player. How refreshing."

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><p>Review if you like. I'd love to hear what you think.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Well, I caved. Obviously. I was up until four thirty in the morning writing this because the whole idea would not leave me alone. My hope is that I don't lose steam on this and can keep writing until I've reached the end.

However, I do hope you enjoy this while it lasts. Reviews and encouragement help a great deal.

Possible forewarning - Rating may change. I have no idea at the moment.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Sherlock or any characters from it. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p><strong><em>A is for all I want<em>**

It had been about a week and a half before Mycroft received a text from Jim Moriarty to reschedule their meeting. The meet would be on that evening and on the shore of the Thames. Mycroft thought it was odd that Moriarty would want to meet while it was still daylight and outside, but he did not question him and took what he could get. Granted, Mycroft was not desperate, but anxious. Meeting this man in person could unlock a few things he could not find in computers or by using other government associates.

He had asked Anthea to join him just as a precaution. If anything were to go wrong or to look like anyone might be in danger, she could contact the proper authorities. They were on their way with him and his assistant sitting in the back of the car.

"I will talk to him alone. You will stay here and watch. If anything and I mean anything…." Mycroft was cut short in explaining his orders to Anthea when she cut him off.

"I know, Mr. Holmes. If a bird looks dodgy, I'll have secret service shoot it down." Anthea looked up from her phone to give him a reassuring look. He chuckled at her and looked out of the window.

It was not too much longer before they reached the spot Moriarty had instructed them to. There was no one there. Not even a car.

"Where is he?" Mycroft mused to himself out loud.

Anthea smiled knowing the answer as she edited a document on her phone. "He was not too happy about waiting the last time. I suppose he will make you wait this time round."

Mycroft made a sound of acknowledgment, but kept his eyes trained on the shore. He instructed their driver to keep a look out as well hoping that one of them might see something soon.

Ten minutes went by before a car almost identical to theirs pulled onto the shore from a different entrance. The only difference between the cars was the color. Mycroft's was black, as usual, and the other was grey, but in the light of an evening sun it looked almost silver.

Each car sat there for a few moments facing each other as if waiting for the first one to make a move. Mycroft knew he was the one that needed to make the first move, so he picked up his umbrella, opened the door, stepped out of the car, and closed the door behind him. He did not look at the other car as he started to stroll away from his car slowly, but he could hear the other's engine shut off.

After twenty feet or so, Mycroft stopped and leaned on his umbrella. He let a smirk slip from its confinement when he heard a door open behind him. Soon, a slightly shorter man was standing a few feet from him.

Anthea sat in the car patiently at first, but when she heard the second door close, she looked up from her work, and at the back of Jim Moriarty making his way to her boss. She felt herself staring at him instead of keeping a close eye on everything. The feeling that overcame her was something related to what she felt during her first encounter with England's criminal. It was pushed back before it could have any major effect on her and she slid over to where her boss had been sitting to get a better look. As with all government cars, the windows were tinted and she was most grateful for that.

Several minutes passed with no disturbance. Everything seemed to be going smoothly from what she could observe. She looked at her phone briefly making a note of what she would need to give her attention to when this meeting was over. Her mind was going back into work mode when it was suddenly snapped out of focus by Moriarty yelling.

"I know she's in the car! You never go anywhere without her apart from home! I abide by drivers, but not assistants!"

She started to panic. A thin sheen of cold sweat appeared on her forehead as she imagined what he would do to her. Her eyes watched Mycroft as he reacted calmly to Moriarty's outburst. It did not seem that she was in any danger by her study of her boss' posture. The study was cut short by another volume change from Moriarty.

"Now!"

Anthea reached for her phone that had ended up on the floor. She had dropped it in shock and was now going to put it to the best use she could come up with. A word like 'now' could be used for many things and considering the situation and who was controlling it, the logical thing was to get the authorities.

The last digits were about to be keyed in when she looked up to see Mycroft walking back to her calmly. There was no hint of danger written on his face and he was not in a hurry to get to the car. He stopped short of the car, enough for the door to swing open without it hitting him. His free hand lifted and he beckoned her with it.

She took a moment to get herself together and not look like she had had a gun to her head. The sweat was gone; the tremble that originated in the core of her bones had diminished as well. She could not see beyond her boss' silhouette. The sun was setting behind him. This unsettled her stomach because she could not see what she would walk into. One deep breath later, she opened the door, stepped out, shut the door and stood next to Mycroft.

"What's happened?" Anthea asked not bothering to lower her voice knowing it would be useless to.

Mycroft looked concerned for a moment then returned to his blank expression. "He wanted you out here with us." He started walking back to where Moriarty was with Anthea trailing behind thoroughly confused.

Jim turned his head to look over his shoulder once he heard the pair of footsteps close enough. He saw Mycroft Holmes first and then his assistant. The woman that had left him at the warehouse with more than a few things to consider.

"Now, that we're all together..." Jim had turned his body to face them, but nearly stopped mid turn when he caught the sight of that phone in her hand.

He moved his gaze to her face, but it had not gone as planned. His eyes did not seem to want to obey him immediately. They had moved from the phone, to her hand, her torso that was wrapped in a rather flattering white coat, her neck then her face. The motion was still fast and it would take someone with a quick eye to catch him.

After his moment that made him want to strangle someone for, he quirked an eyebrow at her in question of the phone. She gave no reaction at first, but lifted her own eyebrow in response and held up the phone for him to see as it switched off.

Mycroft watched the phone turn off and turned to question her. "What are you doing?" There was not a time he could remember when that phone had been off.

Anthea turned her head to address her boss. "Mr. Moriarty dislikes when a person's full attention is not given to him." She left it at that and Mycroft took it remembering the carefully edited version of her story that she had given him the day after the first meeting.

"Ah, yes. Of course." He twisted the umbrella in his hand making the tip dig into the rocky earth beneath them. "Now, that you have our attention, shall we proceed?"

Jim studied them both before picking up the discussion where they had left off.

The entire subject could have been covered in a matter of minutes, but he had purposely delayed it. Jim did not require her audience, but he knew his reaction fit with his described personality. He had wanted to see her. Wanted to know if any of the faint feelings he had been left with that night were simply a reaction or something more permanent.

Part of his answer came quickly when she came back with Mycroft Holmes. He caught himself about to swallow some urge to pull her over to stand next to him instead of with her boss. There was no direct reason for it that he could find. Perhaps because it would make both of them nervous, anxious, aware of the danger that usually accompanied him.

He ticked the feeling off as that, even though he had brought no one with him. Not even a sniper for protection. It was just him and the driver in the car who was unarmed also. His order rang in his ears. _"No guns. No one follows."_ They had all thought he was acting irrationally, but somewhere inside him, he did not want any accidents today.

The discussion ended without another reason for him to lose his control again. Mycroft nodded shortly before turning to leave, but she lingered for no more than a moment.

During the conclusion of their talk, she had flipped the phone in her hand and turned it on. It was almost back to its full capacity before she looked up from the screen at him. The setting sun reflected the brown in her eyes and it caused him to shift his weight, but did it without showing how uncomfortable he was doing it. "Good evening, Mr. Moriarty." She said calmly and then turned following her boss back into the government car.

Jim watched the car drive off and considered following it for a moment, but laughed wondering how he thought of such a thing. His humor did not last though. That woman had left something permanent on him.

Anthea and Mycroft sat comfortably in the back of the car on the way to her flat. He always dropped her off first at the end of the day.

"Are you alright?" He asked looking at her.

She had been a little more than fidgety during their drive back and he could not help, but take notice.

"Yes. Long day. Anxious for a hot bath." She returned, smiling at her phone, but intended for him. Truth was, she still felt Jim Moriarty's gaze on her from that last moment and it was making her uncomfortable. The longer she ignored it, the worse it got.

They reached her flat and she almost leapt from the car. "Goodnight, Mr. Holmes. I will see you Monday." Anthea waited for the knowing nod and his goodnight before shutting the door.

Once she was inside the door, she pulled off her coat and dropped it on a nearby chair. She carried the phone to the kitchen with her, leaving it on the counter next to coffee maker. A nice glass of wine was on her mind and it seemed to be the only cure she could think of for her turning stomach.

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><p>Reviews are nice!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, everyone! Oh, I cannot thank all of you enough for all the favorites, alerts, and reviews. I'm hugging all of you with my mind. However, I do have some unfortunate news. Since classes have started back up, it will take me longer to write these chapters. This one took longer than I expected because Jim refused to cooperate with me for two days straight. I had no idea this would end up being over three thousand words. Anyway...onward!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or any characters related. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p><strong><em>B is for badly<em>**

"_Give it back!" Anthea shouted as she lunged forward yet again and almost losing her balance. _

_He simply dodged her with a side step and tsked at her. "I don't see why I should."_

_She turned to face him again while running a hand through her hair. "How about because I've asked you nearly two dozen times and I'm sure my boss is becoming curious as to why I'm running late?" They had been going around in circles, quite literally, for fifteen minutes and she had nothing to show for her efforts so far._

"_You're not worried about Mycroft." He replied standing in front of her casually; one hand in his trouser pocket and the other holding her phone. "You would have left by now." His voice sang making it bounce off the cemented floor. _

_Her patience had become volatile within the first five minutes. She was just short of tackling him to the ground and beating him. "Fine, I'm not worried. Happy?"_

_His head shook once as he frowned down at the phone. "No. I dare say I'm not." He took a breath then let it out as a sigh as his eyes looked at her from under his lashes in a mocking sense. "You want it back?"_

_Anthea nodded feeling hope flood her, but still had to swallow the nerves building at the top of her throat._

"_Say please." He had lightened his voice again as he waved the phone at her._

_She took a deep breath to calm herself down still not believing the situation she was in. "May I have my phone back, please, Mr. Moriarty?" _

_He started walking toward her leisurely as he flipped her phone in the air a few times. A smirk spread across his face when he saw how nervous it was making her. His steps halted with only a few inches between them. "Good girl."_

_Anthea felt insulted by that at first, but forgot the feeling when she felt a hand slide around the side of her neck and a thumb stroke a part of her jaw line. She had not realized that they were practically boring their eyes into each other and the realization of that combined with the contact made her lips part involuntarily which he took full advantage of._

_He landed his mouth on hers perfectly as if it was a kill shot he had greatly anticipated. The kiss was demanding at first, but melted into something that was a combination of passionate and tender. _

_Her hands grasped the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer letting the feeling of his lips against hers warm her from the inside out. A sudden rush adrenaline from his arm sliding around her lower back made her tense and pull away unexpectedly with a shallow gasp. His chuckle filled her ears. He still had a hold of her, keeping her in place. _

"_Call me Jim."_

Anthea's eyes opened wildly and searched the darkened room for any clue of where she was. She was, of course, in her flat, but this particular reoccurring dream made her forget where she was.

The room became visible again after a few minutes while her mind was racing around franticly not entirely sure what to do. She rolled onto her back holding a hand to her forehead and emitted a frustrated groan. Her other dreams were perfectly normal, but they always seemed to morph into that one.

"If I could go on a vacation, I would." It made her laugh every time Mycroft suggested she take a few days off and leave the country. If he mentioned it now, she would probably jump on the first plane to anywhere, ditching her phone with him.

It had been a month since her incident at the warehouse, and nearly two weeks since the meeting. The dream first appeared a week ago and left her concerned about herself. Now, she was becoming used to it.

She pulled herself out of bed reluctantly and made her to the bathroom. Cold water always seemed to wake her up better than coffee or tea, but they both did their job when they were called for. The faucet released a smooth stream of water and she cupped her hands to gather it then brought it to her face.

A moment from her dream flashed in her mind when the water hit her skin. It was his eyes. Those half crazed, dark eyes staring back at her. She let out an annoyed sigh and turned the faucet off. "How long is this going to go on for?"

The kitchen was a welcoming sight because of the automatic coffee maker. She had set it to start at five every morning, so she would not have to bother with it first thing. Before that coffee maker, a part of her kitchen floor would end up covered in coffee grounds.

Her phone was still in its spot where she had left it the night before and the light at the top of it was blinking angrily. _"Must be Mycroft. He's the only one to contact me this early."_ She thought walking over to it. The buttons clicked under her fingers and the text message was brought up.

**Pack a bag. Vienna. Two hours till pick up. Four days. – MH**

"Vienna!" Anthea nearly danced with her excitement. She would be out of London and nowhere near the man that had now invaded her mind. The car would be at her door in an hour and she still needed to dress.

After a rushed attempt at packing and dressing, she poured her coffee into a thermos, added some creamer, then picked up her bag and headed out the door meeting the car just as it pulled up to the curb.

It was a surprisingly clear day with only a few clouds which called for sunglasses. There was also a slight wind that caused the air to take on its chill. Another rainy day would come soon enough, but the people of the city were taking full advantage of the day.

Jim was walking around a more popular spot of London scouting for a potential challenge. He kept his distance from everyone wanting to pass by them unnoticed. If he did find another game in London then he did not want to have to worry about a pair of eyes needing to be plucked out.

An idea was starting to form inside his head that concerned some small explosives strapped to cabs and then sent to certain facilities when it was interrupted. During his walk, he had not been paying attention to the details about the other people around him, but he had caught a glimpse of a strikingly familiar white coat ahead of him. He had not forgotten that coat or the person that wore it, but he had not thought about it for some time.

The woman had looked up at a shop sign before coming up on it as if considering to enter it. She ultimately made up her mind to and turned just enough for him to see her profile. It was her.

He nearly turned to walk in the other direction, but he wondered why she would be out in London, by herself, without Mycroft. By his account, she never took a day off and only had personal time when Mycroft dropped her off at her flat.

She had entered the shop before he could do anything else, but he was not going to give up in figuring out what she was doing. "_Perhaps an errand." _He thought to himself. His steps guided him to the shop window and his errand idea was blown because the shop was clearly directed towards women. This was starting to mix his ideas to make very little sense. This woman was a working woman that never had a day off or if she did, would not stop working, so why was she in here?

His shoulder met with the stone over the building next to him as he searched the numerous women in the shop for her. He found her soon enough. She was holding a black and white dress at arm's length and had her first fingernail between her teeth revealing her indecisive thoughts. Apparently the buyer side of her won because she took it to the register after another fifteen seconds of debate.

Jim rotated himself so that his back was against the building, but could still spot her when she left the shop. It was not long before his peripheral vision caught sight of her exiting and then continuing down the street, away from him, with a shopping bag in her hand.

His ideas had abandoned him and the only thing left for him to do was to follow her. He had followed people in the past successfully, but this would be more difficult. Mycroft more than likely had her movements tracked when she was away from him and therefore more cameras would be focused in her direction. It would be like playing an intricate game of hide and seek with the cameras and the challenged fueled his idea to follow her even more.

A majority of the cameras near the street were stationary and could not swivel in any direction. This gave Jim an upper hand in the game and quickly spotted the ones that could move. They were focused on the street keen on the cars passing by. He waited a few moments for them to move, but they never did.

More time passed and still the cameras did not move. He chanced a look in the direction she was heading and could still see her, but would soon lose her if he did not start moving now. His logic was telling him to forget the idea. The curiosity and the challenge won out the logic in a heartbeat. He turned and followed her path keeping a close eye on her while still dodging everyone else.

Anthea had acquired a day off. It was hardly acquired in her opinion. Mycroft had basically ordered her to take a day off once they got back from Vienna. He had noticed how relaxed she had been during their visit to Vienna to pick up a fugitive that should have been in their custody and the subtle disappointment when they were returning to London.

She had decided to use the day to do some new wardrobe shopping. It was rare that she found the time to do any shopping, food, clothes, or otherwise. The day was supposed to be for her to stay home and relax, but knowing she had a whole day to herself, she could not resist the temptation of shopping.

After her visit to the third shop of the day, she had a curious feeling burning at the top of her spine. The feeling was quite a familiar one to her from her first days of working with Mycroft. It was the feeling of being followed. When she first took the job, it was paranoia, but she had learned to distinguish between the paranoia and her true intuition.

She pulled out her phone and sent a text to one of her colleagues hoping she would get her answer soon. By the time she reached the next shop and was looking at a rather comfy looking jumper, her phone beeped at her. A smile broke across her face when she reached the most recent image. Her next message was to instruct them not to take any action and that she would report it to Mycroft later in the day. The last message she sent was to the car she was taking to meet her outside of the shop.

When she left, the car was waiting for her. She opened the back door and placed her shopping in it then told the driver that she was not finished and would be a while longer. He smiled at her and thanked her before she shut the door. There was a match on and she knew he did not want to miss the end. It also gave her time to deal with her follower.

The walk to the next shop was not long. It was her favorite and she could probably find her way there with her eyes closed. She opened the door, but before entering she turned to look at her follower and caught him in her direct line of sight. He appeared to slow down a little, but she could not be sure because he had vanished. That would have thrown her off guard, but she knew there was an alley near where she had last seen him.

She smiled to herself and entered the shop going straight for the outerwear. They were her favorite thing about the cold months. If she ever dared to count, she had more coats than shoes.

There was one in particular that had caught her eye. It was a beige color with leather lapels and straps running down the sleeves and torso. A belt decorated the waist of it that was also made of leather.

The temptation of buying this beautiful coat was disturbed when she felt a soft brush of air past her. No one can mistake the feeling of someone standing near them.

Anthea hid a smirk as she felt the fabric of the coat between her fingers. "Hello, Mr. Moriarty." She did not take her eyes off the coat while the man stood behind her.

"Is Mycroft looking after his things?" Jim asked lightly as he watched her.

She laughed softly while she moved away from the coat and him towards a rack of cashmere jumpers. "Mycroft does not keep tabs on me. I have my own ways."

He rounded the coat rack after her to stand in her line of sight. His arm propped up on one the metal rods holding the clothes up that were draped on hangers and rested his head in his hand giving her a curious look. "Am I mistaken in thinking he is in control of the government? Maybe I should be watching you more carefully."

"You already have been, Mr. Moriarty." Anthea slipped her phone out of her coat pocket and turned the screen toward him. It displayed a CCTV image of him outside a previous shop about ten feet away from her. After a moment she pulled the phone away and tucked it back in its proper place.

Jim watched her flick through the jumpers for a moment then took hold of rack that was nailed to the floor and swung around it to place himself next to her. "It seems I've underestimated you." He had leant in close to her ear and was expecting her to flinch or show some sign of nervousness, but she never did.

"I strive to give people that opinion, seems it even worked on you." Anthea turned and faced him keeping the proximity between them the same.

He moved back just a bit not expecting her to stay near him when she turned. His eyes fixed on hers looking for anything he might use to his advantage. A hint of fear, doubt, uncertainty, a weakness of any kind would suffice, but she had her entire guard up and there was no getting past it like this. The train of thought had caused him to zone out and was violently broken when he noticed the corners of her mouth had turned up slightly, displaying something between a smile and a grin. He nearly had taken a step back, but made himself stand firm.

She had noticed his small retreat when she turned and it was the cause for her smile. "More competition than you bargained for, Mr. Moriarty?" Her voice was low and tied to charm. After a moment, she slipped passed his shoulder picking up a few articles of clothing, including the beige coat, on her way to the nearest register.

Jim watched her the entire time letting her last words roll around his mind. A remark like that would normally make him laugh and cut his opponent down to something a little larger than a paper clip, but not this time. Something inside him was twisting and knotting itself over and over again. It had begun when he had first started following her. Whatever it was had grown in strength over the last hour and half and was preventing him to treating her like any other person, much less an enemy.

There was one thing he could be smug about. When she had turned, he had lifted her phone from her coat pocket and put it in his. He wondered if she had noticed because she gave no reaction when he did.

When he returned his focus to what was going on around him, realized he was holding the phone again and looking at it. He quickly stashed it back in his pocket seeing her walking back in his direction with her new purchases and pulled out his own phone to send a quick message to his driver.

"Planning an escape?" Anthea asked when she was sure he could hear her.

"An escape? Hardly." He responded slipping his phone in a different pocket because hers was in the pocket he usually kept his phone in. "I never have to escape. That would mean retreating."

She nodded and walked passed him. "Then it might be personal business, but I think you prefer to handle personal business with a call instead of text."

Jim followed her out of the shop and onto the pavement. "As much as I would like to brag about my personal business, I must leave you to wonder what it might be."

A car pulled up beside them perfectly in time with their conversation. It was the same car he had used to meet Mycroft.

"Perhaps we will be seeing each other again." Jim said casually as he opened the back passenger door. He was about to climb in, but stopped when she spoke.

"I'm sure if we do, you'll be the reason for it." Anthea had done her best to hold back the grin that threatened her face, but some of it slipped out.

He turned around with his back to the open space and held the door open with his hand on the frame. "Will you be searching for me?" His smile could threaten the most notorious murderers in history.

She laughed softly, shaking her head as she stepped forward. "I'm afraid that would be too fun of a game for you." Her hand dipped into his coat pocket and pulled out her phone. "And I won't be letting you leave with this."

Jim arched an eyebrow at her almost impressed by her move, but gave no other reaction. He waited for her to turn and leave once she had her possession back, but she only pocketed it before looking back at him again. His eyes fell to her mouth when her hand rose to her face. She kissed her first two fingers and then placed them to his lips for a moment. He looked back at her and was about to return a mocking affection when she drew them away.

Anthea smiled politely. "Good afternoon, Mr. Moriarty." With her last words she turned and started walking down the street.

He watched her for a brief time then slid into the car shutting the door behind him. "Drive." His voice was stern, but he felt that knotting and twisting feeling grow more. All he wanted to do was cut it out him.

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><p><em>I hope you enjoyed it.<em>

_Reviews are nice._

_Please?_


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, everyone. This is the next one. I know I can't update as much as some of you would like, but I do promise that this will be updated until I'm finish. I won't abandon it.

And a message to Red - Mycroft will be joining in again. Quite soon actually.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or any of it's characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat

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><p><em><strong>C is for can't you stay longer<strong>_

The night of his encounter with her while she was shopping was nothing less than restless. He had not even bothered to try and sleep. His mind kept replaying everything she had said to him, how she said, how she looked when she said it, and the feeling of her fingertips against his lips. When that particular memory came back around in his mind, he caught himself pausing to lick his lips as her image collected in front of his eyes. The night was spent moving from one room to another and the anxiety leaked into the next day.

Over the next few days Jim decided that he would keep tabs on the woman that was threatening his mind. He had two men follow her that he checked in on twice a day. They gave him information about where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing. The excuse he gave them was the truth; she was close to Mycroft Holmes. The check ins would have been more frequent, but he knew that would raise questions and he hated to have to have someone else assassinated in his enterprise again. The help was hard to find.

His check ins were simply for him. If the urge became strong enough to track her down to the spot, then he could. So far, he could keep that urge under control which he took pride in.

The days moved along, but the twisting and knotting feeling was growing stronger. That feeling was another reason why most of his nights were spent with him running events of their encounters through his mind instead of the plans he was supposed to be perfecting.

His plans were important to him. They were what gave him entertainment from the mundane world around him. Now, she was affecting his work. That thought had caused him to throw metal plate into his television screen. He was not going to let whatever was going on inside his mind to continue and it would start immediately.

He sent a text to the two men he had following her to call them off. If he was going to get his mind back in order, he would have to stop everything having to do with her. Some relief washed over him once the message was sent which enabled him to get some sleep before the morning came.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Jim was leaving the building of a client of his when he thought he spotted the woman. She might have been across the street, but whatever he saw vanished before he could get a good look. He figured it was just someone who looked like her.

The next day a similar incident occurred, but this time he thought he saw her in the same office building he was in. When he looked again after having to double back to make sure, it was a different person. Cold turkey was having some effect on him. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He cut himself off completely and refused to entertain any thought of her that crept into his mind at anytime. It could only be the withdraw experience. The thought of being in withdraw from someone made him nauseous.

Another three days went by and he had the same experiences in different locations. He saw her on the street, near a client's home, and leaning against the corner of one of the buildings he was thinking about terrorizing. During those days he started to lose sleep again, but more over wondering if he was making up these images or if she was really there. The small appliances in the kitchen were the victims to this thought process.

~.~.~.~.~

During a consultation with a possible new client, Jim received a text from one of his men. The image was downloading, so he ignored it for now and finished discussing the plans to transfer of the man's wealthy mother, so he could inherit her estate.

The meeting concluded and as he was leaving his client's office, he remembered the text he had got during. He pushed the elevator button and fished out his phone. The touch screen clicked under his thumb as he navigated through his phone. Once he reached the image, he nearly forgot about the elevator and would have if the ding of its arrival did not remind him.

He walked into the elevator and pushed the ground floor button. There was a man hurrying toward the elevator with a desperate look on his face. Jim did not want to be delayed, so he pushed the button to close the doors and gave the man a false sympathetic look with a shrug. "Sorry. Wrong button." He told him as the doors closed on the other man.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out walking straight out of the building to his car that was parked in front of the doors. He was hoping that the image was false and that he would only have to pull out someone's teeth at the end of the day. No matter how much he hoped, it did not change what he saw before him.

There she was. The woman he had been trying to get his mind away from. She was leaning up against his car with her arms crossed casually and one leg crossed over the other. One of the men that had been following her was standing next to her watching her in case she did something to endanger his boss.

"Did you become bored with me, Mr. Moriatry?" She asked with a smile that caused the twisting and knotting feeling to come back full force.

Jim looked at her for a moment with a neutral expression then instructed the man to leave. The man left almost instantly and she watched him go. "I liked him. He was more discrete than the other one."

A mental note was made in his internal agenda to have a discussion with the other man, but that was far from his main focus. He strode toward the car, opened the back door, and stepped aside. "Get in."

She gave him an inquiring look, which he narrowed his eyes at. Though the slight intimidation showed through her body language, she pushed herself off of the car and made her way around to the other side, opening the opposite back door for herself and climbing in.

He glared down inside the car for a moment, but slid in next to her and ordered the driver to head towards the center of the city.

"Is there something special there?" She asked half turning towards him. Her hand slid into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

"Perhaps." Jim's eyes could not help but dart to the phone. He watched her send a short message then looked back at her. "You know how I feel about that phone."

"Yes. Shall I hand it to you or would like to pick-pocket me again?" She had it in her hand as she spoke, holding it between them.

His eyes did not leave her face, but he still felt tempted to take the phone from her. "Keep it for now."

The phone left his sight and was placed back in her pocket. "Why were you following me, Mr. Moriarty?" She asked in a smooth tone as if she had asked it frequently in her life.

"I should ask you that question." He had absent mindedly shifted his position so that he was half facing her and half facing the front.

"I'm glad you noticed. I was starting to worry." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she spoke. "Could you imagine, an amateur like me successfully getting away with keeping tabs on England's notorious consulting criminal. Very bad gossip would be spread around."

Jim narrowed his eyes at her again and resisted the urge to throw her out of the vehicle into traffic. "That wouldn't happen. The last person that tried was turned into a throw rug."

She wrinkled her nose at his last sentence. "How lovely and artistic."

"That's only what I was told. I'm not sure what they did with him." He continued carelessly. "I wouldn't have a throw rug in that particular design."

When he looked back at her, her eyes had softened and warmed a little. "Why were you following me?" She asked again, but in a tone decorated with powdered sugar.

"Interested in your boss, of course. Why else?" The defensiveness he felt build inside his chest nearly caused him to gag.

"Why else indeed. Why not just follow him?" She asked resting her elbow on the back of her seat and leaning her head in her hand. "What could I possibly tell you from a distance?"

Jim gave her a strange smile and let his eyes wander over her for the purpose of making her feel uncomfortable. It soon made an impact when he noticed her weight shift awkwardly. "What indeed."

She fixed her stare on him determined for an answer, but had to forfeit for a moment when her phone beeped in her pocket. Without thinking, she pulled it out of her pocket and barely got a look at the screen before he had a hold of her wrist.

"Naughty naughty." He slid over to her while keeping the hold on her wrist in between them. His grip on her was firm, but not firm enough to leave a mark. There was no need to leave evidence to make her boss suspicious. He watched her eyes move from between them to his. Her breathing had quickened just enough for him to notice. A fleeting feeling of accomplishment spread over him now that he knew he had an effect on her. His hand holding her wrist loosened and slid along the length of her hand to take the phone from her. "Now, why don't you tell me why you are following me?"

"And if I don't? Will I be killed?" She asked hardly moving from her position.

Jim chuckled darkly as he shook his head. "No. I wouldn't kill you." He lifted his hand to place it under her chin making her head tilt upwards a little. "Torture you, yes."

There was a brief change of expression in her face that told him he had found some sort of button. "Oh, have you been tortured? By whom?"

Her eyes automatically averted to the side and downward before returning back to him. "You, of course. Anyone aware of your exploits is tormented by you."

He frowned at her slightly and slid his hand from under her chin to push a few strands of hair behind her ear. She tensed next to him from his actions which nearly caused his frown to break. "Nice try, but that's not what is invading your mind. It is me, I know that's true, but I'm leaking into those dark personal parts, aren't I?"

Her weight had shifted away from him and he only followed her, wanting her to feel distressed for all the trouble she had caused in his mind. "See there. I'm right. You can't hide that from me."

"So what if you are?" She asked once she had run out of room. Her back was against the door and there was nowhere else to go unless she decided to jump into London traffic.

"Then you should tell me about it. I like stories." Jim drew closer to her, but did not come to face to face with her. Instead, he moved to the side of her face so that her ear was close to his mouth. "I could fix it for you." He added in a low voice that caused her to tense further.

Her phone that he had set behind him beeped and pulled them both back to the reality. The hatred he had for that phone grew stronger and he cursed himself for not turning it off when he had the chance. He moved away from her swiftly taking up her phone, but paused as he considered the object he held.

The phone turned in his hand once remembering when he first had snatched it from her. That one maneuver on his part had put all this into play. How much more damage could more antics cause? He pushed the thought aside to entertain later and held her phone out to her.

She took it after hesitating for an instant. It did not appear to be anything important to her from her expression, but he was not an expert on her yet. The phone dropped into her pocket and she ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes had not left her lap the entire time and he all but wanted to give her another reason to feel uncomfortable.

"I was curious." She said suddenly. "That's why I decided to follow you."

"Giving into your weaknesses?" He asked grinning at her answer. "Those kinds of weaknesses can get you into trouble." The last word was sung to her conceitedly. It earned him a glare from her that was clearly annoyed.

Jim ordered the driver to stop and observed the puzzled expression on her face. "Did you think I was kidnapping you?"

She blinked once then took on the air of indifference again. "The thought had crossed my mind."

The car stopped near a small restaurant that she had been to before. Coincidence was the least likely reason for it, but that is how she took it to put herself at ease. She opened the door and went to get out, but was stopped when she felt his hand take hers. Her head turned around along with her torso, so that she was almost facing him entirely.

Stillness passed over them, but it did not last long. He watched her carefully as he lifted her hand gently. The anxiety surfaced in her face immediately. A half smirk cracked the seriousness on his face before he pressed his lips tenderly to the back of her hand. His eyes left her face when he felt her relaxed hand grip his and lingered on it for a brief moment. He let go of her hand and smiled at her. "Perhaps I'll hear a story next time."

She studied his relaxed position on the other side of the car before she removed herself from the car. The door did not shut right away, but stayed open just enough for her to lean down and look at him from the pavement. "It would be a good story." And with that, the door shut and the woman vanished inside the restaurant they had parked beside.

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><p><em>Not as long as I had assumed it would be. The next part should be quite lenghty and might take me longer than a week. Just a warning.<em>

_I hope you liked it!_

_Reviews help with writers block._


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, everyone! I can't thank you enough for the reviews, favorites, alerts. I love you all. I really do. You're helping me more than you.

I've also realized that I've kind of been switching between characters a little in the first chapters, from now on they'll flip flop between the two. For example the last chapter was written based on Jim's reactions, emotions, etc. This one...is both, you'll see. The next will be written based on Anthea's thoughts, emotions, etc.

To suzy q - I know Moriarty is a Professor in the books, but I'm going off of the BBC series and, if memory serves me right, no one ever says if he had that...title?...not sure what to call it. So, that's why he's Mr. in this story.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or the characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p><strong><em>E is for no escape<em>**

It was another late night, the fourth one of the week. Jim was lying on his couch in silence. His eyes were closed, one hand rested on his stomach while the other dangled off the edge. There was piano piece playing quietly in the background. He was attempting to deal with his late nights in a calmer way so that he did not destroy his home. Half the bathroom was covered in shards of the mirror and part of his bedroom wall had holes in it from knives. He had stopped himself when he considered blowing up the stove.

Sleep came easy to him, but it was not restful. Instead of dreams, hi s mind decided to recreate the memories of her perfectly. Some were so vivid that he forgot he was in his flat.

He knew the reason it was happening. Now, he knew that he was not the only one that was having a hard time. The car ride conversation had given him an insight to what was going on with her side. She was not dealing with it as well has he assumed. He had thought there was hardly an effect on her by the way she was acting toward him, but he was proven wrong.

A mischievous partial smile spread across his face when he ran through his memories of her during their last conversation. He relished at how tense she was and how the anxiety had built up in her. The way she had looked away from him had given him all the information he needed. There was more going inside her head than what she let on and he wanted to know it all.

The music stopped and it broke him away from his half trance. He took in a frustrated breath as he prepared to rise from the couch and change the disc. It surprised him a little that he had not gone after the stereo during his moments.

After changing the disc, he walked to the kitchen to find something to drink; something with a kick. The farthest part of the bar was decorated with broken bottles. More evidence of his distaste for his situation. He poured himself a glass of which ever bottle he grabbed first then sat at the bar on one of the stools.

His head was in his hands and he was concentrating at controlling his breathing. Another memory was threatening to break its barrier and he let it. Holding it back would only cause him to destroy something else.

It was from the first meeting. She had demanded her phone back after he said he was going to keep it. The moment precisely before she had kissed him. There was something about her then that he kept returning to.

He took a drink from his glass then set it back down quickly so that he would not throw it across the room. The memory went on, but skipped to when he had his arms around her. That twisting and knotting feeling grew in his chest again as his mind started to manufacture the feeling of her in his arms. It was all becoming painfully vivid. He could feel the warmth on his chest, the fabric of her clothes, the sound of her moan, and that's when the memory broke.

His laughter started out low, but it slowly grew in volume. It was the only way to express his amusement at what was happening to him. He controlled himself long enough to finish of his drink in one go, but the laughter started up again. The humor in it all almost caused him to fall off of the stool, but he grasped the counter for support.

After a few moments he calmed down and returned to his couch. He sat with his arms resting on his knees and his hands folded under his chin. The humor lingered on his face for a moment before it resigned to a somber expression.

Everything was being reassessed in his mind. Every detail, every reaction he has had, everything he has done that had anything to do with her, and he was coming close to finding clarity. He forced himself to recall of the mockingly intimate things between them, but it was starting to make him shake with anger. This was not how he was going to react again. The anger was only the surface and he was determined to find what fueled it.

One last deep breath was pulled into his lungs before he delved back into his mind. The anger emerged almost at once, but he forced it away and focused on what was underneath it. He found the usual things, things that he expected; interest, entertainment, and slight arousal. The latter made him laugh again, but he composed himself quickly and proceeded to dig deeper.

The realization hit him after a short while and it caused him to lean back into the couch. His head lulled back against it. It was not something that was obvious to him, something that he had known about, but chose to ignore. It was something he purposely buried so he would not have to think about it. In the beginning it was something similar to infatuation, but the most recent event gave him a sort of peace. He had forgotten about it purposely.

His hands ran over his face as he groaned in an almost defeated manner. The fact that he knew without a doubt that she was affected by him, that she reacted to him unwillingly, gave him comfort. He was comforted by the fact that he was not the only one being tormented. She was having the same problems he was and he was happy that he was the reason for it. Granted, he was happy when he caused anyone trouble, but not like this.

The opponents he selected never caused him trouble on a personal level, but she did. He could sleep when something changed in one of his games, but not when she did something that was unexpected. She had planted herself in a different part of his mind; a place he never intended for her to go. To make it worse, she did not seem to stay in that one place. Something would happen during his work or his planning and she would appear. She had slipped into every crevice all because he had not anticipated her to be someone challenging.

Jim stood up swiftly and grabbed his phone off the end table. He typed out a quick message as he walked to his bedroom. It was almost three in the morning, but he did not care if it was inconvenient for anyone involved. The driver would be waiting for him when he would reach the ground floor. He snatched a jacket from one side of his closet and made his way out of the flat.

Everything was going to be resolved tonight.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Anthea was sitting at the island in her kitchen with a nearly empty glass of wine and the bottle sitting next to it. Her finger was tracing the edge of her glass making it sing softly. Normally, she did not require half a bottle of wine to calm herself down, but today had an unplanned event.

~.~.~

_Mycroft was sitting at his desk looking through the file of their most recent affair when she walked in. He gestured to one of the chairs indicating she should take a seat. She did so without question and typed away on her phone until he was ready. A few hours earlier, he had sent her a message saying that he would like to speak to her before she left for home._

_The file in his hands closed then placed aside and she did the same with her phone. Usually, when he asked to speak to her alone, it was over a delicate situation that they would be handing the next day, but this was not the case this time._

_His hands folded on the desk before he spoke. "I asked you here to talk about Jim Moriarty."_

_She blinked once as she thought over the sentence quickly. "Has he done something recently? Or is he going to do something?"_

"_Both questions are to be answered, but by you." His expression was stern and unyielding. She had seen it several times, but was never on the receiving end of it._

_At first, she thought about lying and pretending not to know what he was talking about, but Mycroft could only be fooled by a small handful of people. She was not one of them."I don't know how to answer your question, sir." Her head almost dropped to look at her lap, like a child being caught sneaking sweets before dinner._

"_I see." Mycroft leaned back in his chair and tilted his head. His face had softened only a little as he began to study her. It was not like how Jim Moriarty studied someone. He looked for weaknesses for personal gain. Her boss studied her out of concern. "Try to answer to the best of your abilities."_

_~.~.~_

Anthea grimaced as finished off her second glass. She was starting to hate herself for putting herself in this mess. The burgundy liquid poured from the neck of the bottle into the glass. It filled the glass half way before she set the bottle aside.

"I don't know why I did it." She said aloud before tipping the glass against her lips again. That's how she started explanation.

~.~.~

_The conversation circled around her odd car ride with the criminal that nearly everyone was watching these days. _

"_I don't know why I decided to get in that car. I wish I hadn't." She felt her composure slipping, but refused to become completely flustered in front of her boss._

_Mycroft nodded at her calmly letting the information be filed away in his mind. "I have to say, I wish you hadn't also, but we can't change that."_

_There is where the guilt stung the most. Even though Mycroft was her boss, he was the closest person to her. All of her family was gone, she had no time for friend, he was her only company on a daily basis. They both considered each other a close friend in their own definition. Now, she had caused trouble and she was supposed to be the one person to not cause trouble for him._

_He continued leaning forward against the desk. "I want you to be careful. I know you know how to look after yourself. You've proven that time and time again, but this isn't like something you've dealt with before."_

_Anthea nodded and swallowed back the overwhelming sense of depressing emotions. "I understand."_

"_He does not seem to want to hurt you or get any information from you, but we can only anticipate how long the facade he's painted will last." His focused turned to his desk where there were a few photos of Jim Moriarty talking to her. _

~.~.~

Her head had made its way to the counter while her hand lay gently next to the glass that she had half drunk. She was enjoying the comforting feeling that the cold marble gave off. The guilt had come back as she recounted the conversation and laying her cheek against the counter seemed like the best thing to do other than gulping down the rest of the wine.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It helped somewhat, but she still felt horrible. The edible items in her kitchen ran through her mind. Comfort food was needed and it seemed that she had none on hand. A loud and frustrated groan came from her as she sat up and covered her face with her hands.

~.~.~

"_There haven't been any serious threats from him." Anthea started, but quickly continued as Mycroft looked up at her abandoning the photos. "Only his idea of jokes."_

_He made a sound of understanding then returned to the photos. They were spread across the center of the desk. From what she could see, one was from the day she had gone shopping and two were from the day of the car ride. She felt a little relieved that these were the only ones._

"_You know, if it wasn't for your slight change in habits, I would not have noticed." He gestured to her hands that were in her lap. She had been absent mindedly picking at one of her nails and she stopped as soon as he pointed it out._

_After a few moments, he stacked the photos together and placed them into the shredder next to his desk. "You may go, Anthea." _

_She did not rise at once feeling like there was something she should do, but nothing came to mind. "Goodnight, Mr. Holmes."_

_Before she opened the door Mycroft spoke up again. "Be careful, Anthea. I mean it." The stern expression had left him and the only thing left was concern._

_The corners of her mouth turned up sadly, but gave him a smile that said she appreciated everything then left, closing the door behind her._

~.~.~

"A shower. A hot shower is exactly what I need." She said to herself as she removed herself from her seat at the island with glass and bottle in hand.

It was not in her to leave used dishware around, so she corked the bottle, put it back on the small wrack then carried the glass to the sink to wash and dry it. Once the glass was put away, she made her way to her room to grab a change of clothes before her shower.

She picked out a pair of pajama pants and tank top. It was the first items she saw and did not want to be picky. With her fresh clothes set aside, she grabbed a towel from the hallway closet then stripped out of her clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket.

After bringing the clothes and towel into the bathroom, she heated the water before stepping in to the falling hot water. It was hotter than she expected, but it soothed her muscles forcing her to relax, so she left it at the temperature it was.

The water had washed away most of the negative emotions away for now and it left her feeling only a little better. Overall, she felt numb when she considered it while turning the water off and stepping out into the now steamed bathroom. She dried off and dressed leisurely thinking that she should try drinking a glass of water before she went to bed. It would fight off any possible headache that might make itself known in the morning.

She opened the door and started for the kitchen as she towel dried her hair. As she rounded the corner at the end of the hallway that opened into the sitting room, she nearly screamed. Her free hand had clamped onto her mouth to prevent any alarming sound that might leak through. The arm holding up the towel went slack letting the fabric hang by her side. She all but stared at the figure lounging on her couch.

"Hello." Jim Moriarty greeted sweetly, nodding his head in her direction. "Nice night."

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><p><em>Well, there it is. I actually wrote a fair chunk of the next chapter before I finished this one. The next will probably be up before the weekend.<em>

_Hope you liked it!_


	6. Chapter 6

Finally! Been trying to upload this for a day and half. Thank you Support!

Anyway, this is the next part.

To Kay and Ash - I cannot love your enthusiasm more. And Ash, you're suggestions are being considered.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sherlock or it's characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Stephen Moffat.

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><p><em><strong>F is for falling too fast<strong>_

"I would greet you by name, but I'm not sure what to call you." Jim added changing his position to further slouch in his seat.

Anthea had nearly dropped the towel she was using to dry her hair when she first saw him. She was considering using it to strangle him with. He was in her home. This was her home. It did not seem like it was enough to have him permanently residing in her head.

"Hello, Mr. Moriarty. Can I offer you a drink?" She was angry with the situation, but she was not going to pass up a chance like this; the opportunity to retaliate.

He looked at her for a moment with subtle smile that forced her to swallow the lump of nerves at the top of her throat. There were too many emotions running through her for her to focus on. She decided to only focus on what was sitting on her couch. Sooner or later one emotion would win out.

"I think I'll take a drink." The air of smug intentions seemed to radiate off of him. His attitude only emphasized it.

Anthea draped the towel on the back of one of the dining table chairs before making her way to the kitchen. The flat was, unfortunately, designed where you could see the sitting room through the kitchen doorway. He had picked the perfect spot. She would be able to see him, and he her, while she prepared his drink. It made her want to throw something at him, but she forced the urge away and focused on the task at hand.

Once the drink was complete, she walked back into the sitting room with it, and handed it to him. She took her seat on the opposite side of the couch and tucked one leg beneath her.

Jim watched her sit then looked at the objects in his hand. "Now, how could you know how I take my tea?" He stirred the liquid twice before taking a sip.

"It's my job to know." It was casual statement that she had said well over a thousand times to several different people.

"Have you been following me again?" His subtle smile had transformed into a smirk that seemed to only grow with the passing seconds.

She shook her head slowly and pulled her still wet hair to one side of her face. "No." Shortest response was her best option. It led to fewer questions.

"Hm." Jim set the cup and saucer on the small table that was in front of him then turned to her. "What is your name?" He tapped a finger to his lips mocking thought. "I know of the ones you use on a daily basis…"

"The best way to hide something is in plain sight." She replied cutting him off. Her reward was a sinister look that would have threatened anyone else, but she knew the difference between the looks he gave people when they amused him and the ones he gave people he intended to be rid of.

"Well, aren't you clever?" He stood and moved around the room, looking at various objects that were in the vicinity.

Anthea watched him, taking into account anything he touched. He did not seem genuinely interested in what was around her home, but distracted. She studied his movements and tried to piece together what was going on, but was starting to become distracted herself.

One of the first things she had noticed was his clothes. They were not the usual high priced label, perfectly tailored clothes that she had seen him in previously. He was wearing regular clothes; jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and tennis shoes. Something about that ensemble caused her to stare and wonder how he looked the same, but completely different. There was something so pedestrian about it that it caused her to smile a little.

She had not noticed that he had turned to look at her until he spoke. "Careful, your eyes are lingering." Her eyes quickly left their fixed spot on his chest to his face and it caused her mouth to go dry. Thankfully she was not close enough to him to see it up close, but she caught a trace of desire behind his eyes when she met them. The same kind of desire she kept seeing in her dreams at night. Her frustration at the moment nearly caused her to groan, but she kept it silent.

"Why? Does it bother you?" She inquired tilting her head up to get a better look at him in the dim light. This made her wonder why she had not turned on any other lights since this had started. The blame went toward to how flustered she felt when she first entered the room.

Jim did not move, but stared at her in response to her question. He seemed to be weighing his options, but what options was the question. She knew one wrong word in the wrong context could have someone killed with one word from him, but that did not seem like one of the choices in mind.

After a moment, she could not take the silent tension anymore. The heat in her face was starting to rise and impulse to throw the cup at him was bordering on irresistible. "Will you stop doing that?" Her voice cracked in the middle unintentionally and the embarrassment rushed over her.

"Does it bother you?" He responded sarcastically and started to make his way back over to his previous seat.

Anthea lowered her eyes and focused them on the floor then on the couch. Her breathing was becoming shallow and it was not long before the feeling inside her broke. The laughter started out quiet, but she soon broke into a fit of giggles.

Jim had stopped half way to his spot when he heard her laughter. He turned around quickly and studied her. The action caused her to clamp a hand over her mouth, but that did not stop her. It only fueled her humor further.

A moment passed by before she could calm herself down. She took one last deep breath and relaxed. "Sorry. Not sure where that came from." In all honesty, she was not sure. It was a guess to say that it was the situation, everything involved in it, and everything involved before it.

"Nervous laughter?" He suggested from above her with a raised eyebrow.

She looked up at him and shrugged. "Possibly, I have every reason to be nervous."

"Do you?" He took his seat and propped his heals up on the table.

"Don't I?" Her nerves were building up again and she was sure that they would bubble over. She would do something irrational if she did not stop it.

"I have no reason or inclination to cause you harm." His hands folded behind his head to complete his recline.

Anthea felt her eyes widen on their own accord, but soon forced them to shape normally. She cleared her throat and looked down at her lap. For the past two months she had been under the impression that she could be shot or worse at any given time. Now, she finds out that she was wrong to be worrying about that sort of thing. Not like she had the mind power to. Her focus had been divided; one for work and one for thinking about the man sitting in front of her.

It's not that she wanted to think about him, he always seemed to pop up at unexpected times. There were numerous times where she was simply walking into her home and she caught herself wondering what it would be like to walk into where ever he lived. Some of the situations at work were impacted by him. She would hear the news about national security and she had the automatic thought of _"He would do it differently._" It was only at night when her mind wandered back to the few heated moments either of them created or to one of the dreams that she remembered clearly.

The conversation she had with Mycroft was bubbling up in her mind. _Be careful_. Those two words repeated over and over in her head to the point where she could almost hear her boss saying it in front of her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt her chin being lifted. She looked up quickly and found him sitting an arm's length away from her. This was one of those moments her mind would catalogue away at its own discretion.

He tilted his head at her slightly when she swallowed and knew that her eyes were giving away the butterflies invading her stomach. Though she knew he could have, he did not comment on it. "That's better. I'd much rather have you look at me." Jim let his hand drop from her face, but did not move back to the other side of the couch.

Now, she was stuck. She did not know what to say next or do for that matter. Her eyes searched him for anything that could spark her imagination, but it seemed her mind was latched onto that last touch.

Finally something came to her. "Like to watch as you terrorize your victims?"

At first, he looked as if he was going to reply, but then he stood and walked away from the couch running a hand through his hair. She could hear a faint aggravated groan from him as he turned to walk in a different direction. He stopped near the wall that separated the sitting room from kitchen and held his fist against it.

Her fear rose in her throat again at his reaction, but it soon died down when she noticed he seemed to be having the same internal debate he was having before. The urge to console him was overwhelming and she hated herself for it.

Just before she was about to give to that urge, he suddenly hit the wall with his fist. "Why do you do this to me?" His voice was calm, but strained. Vivid evidence of debate going on inside his head. "Why!" He half yelled as he turned part of his body to face her.

Anthea could not move. She was failing to put two and two together simply because of the shock of the question. What was _she_ doing? What _was_ she doing? There was too many ways to ask herself that question, but left it with those.

Her concentration broke when her lungs started screaming at her to let out the breath she had been holding. When she did, she watched his hand leave the wall. Remarkably, there was not a hole or even a dent.

The thoughts swirling around in her head were from every different direction and every idea she could come up with. Most of them were involuntary. Be careful. The words echoed louder as her head became cluttered with every warning and every instinctual reaction. They were starting to make her feel anxious for no suitable reason. She took a deep breath to clear her head and then looked back at him.

He was had not moved from his spot and was watching her. At first glance, she thought he looked ready to destroy the next thing he laid a hand on, but when she looked closer she saw something different. His expression was nearly blank a part from the hints of desolation around his eyes. She took in everything about him, the change of air, attitude, expression, and his question. Soon she realized he was waiting on her. Waiting on her to do or say anything.

Her next action could determine several different things. There were too many outcomes to count and she did not want to think about them. She wanted to think about what was best for her. The best thing for her to do would be for her to leave, but she could not. Something about leaving tore at her.

That is when she let the feeling she was holding back come over her. She was not going to leave and she was not going to make him leave either. The same urge to comfort him returned and she gave into it this time without question.

Jim turned more towards her when she rose from the couch and started walking toward him. The closer she got, the more nervous she became. What if she read him wrong? It was always a possibility, but she refused to let that change her mind.

She stopped directly in front of him and kept her eyes on his face. The only thing that had changed in him was an added confusion. Nothing over the top and only just noticeable. He clearly did not know what she was going to do and did not seem to want to figure it out.

Her eyes fixed themselves on his. He almost looked lost, but she was sure it was just uncertainty. She resisted the urge to touch his face so that he could have some comfort. Another breath later she made up her mind to follow through with the only idea that seemed right to her.

She took another step toward him to further close the gap between them and he never moved. Never took his eyes off her or gave any hint that he was going to stop her. "Close your eyes." He obeyed almost immediately before giving her brief questioning look. She smiled when he did thinking that he would never follow a command again.

Anthea leaned in slowly, watching for signs for anything. When she was only millimeters away from him, she closed her eyes, tilted her head up and softly pressed her lips to his for a quick kiss. It was more of a suggestion for him and her testing her limits. She opened her eyes when she pulled back a little only to look at him. He still had his eyes shut, but his expression had changed to something close to relief. There was barely time to appreciate it before he leaned toward her on his own accord.

Jim returned her quick kiss before returning for a much longer one. She felt his hands on her hips and smiled into the kiss when he moved closing the little space that was between them. Her hand slid up his chest, around to the back of his neck, and she pulled him down forcing the kiss to deepen. He growled deep in his throat in response then took control.

It would be an understatement to say she had been caught off guard. They broke apart only briefly as he pushed her into the wall that was behind him. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist to take brunt of the contact with the wall then slid away. He captured her lips again while he took hold of both of her wrists, placing them above her head, and holding them there with one hand as the other gripped her hip firmly.

She nearly melted on the spot at his control. It thrilled her to no end. Her mind was wiped completely of almost all coherent thought. The only thing left there was him; the near bruising grip he had on her, his weight resting against her, the softness of his lips that were now moving away from her mouth.

At first she was going to protest, but soon forgot it when he latched onto the side of her neck. A soft whimper escaped her and she felt the grip on her wrists tighten. The reaction made her grin as she tilted her head some to give him more room. He moved along the column of her neck possessively and occasionally nipped at her skin roughly. It caused her head to lull back on its own accord and forced a moan to push past her lips.

She felt him smile against her skin and placed a soft kiss on a spot near her collarbone that was now bruised. He moved back to her mouth where he tentatively brushed his lips against hers. Her eyes opened some to find him looking back at her.

A soft smile appeared across her mouth as she glanced over at the table. "Your tea is getting cold."

Jim looked confused for a very brief moment, but soon laughed softly. "The gracious hostess." His voice was husky and it caused her shiver. He was still close enough to her to feel it and it only brought out a half smirk that made her heart race. The distance between their lips was about to disappear again, but the sound of her phone going off in the kitchen interrupted them.

That sound was the most displeasing sound and Anthea thought about tossing it out the window. She was about to tell him to ignore it, but he lowered her arms for her, letting them go, but kept the secure hold on her hip. His forehead rested against the wall beside her so that his mouth was next to her ear.

"Why did I not destroy that phone when I had the chance?" He sounded genuinely annoyed with himself and she had to stop herself from giggling.

She lifted a hand to the side of his neck to trace small circles near the collar of his shirt. "Multiple chances in fact." Her retort earned her a few nips behind her ear. The feeling it released caused her bite into her bottom lip and gripped the jacket he was wearing tightly.

He glided his lips over her ear, along her jaw line, and stopped to hover over her mouth. "Obviously, there were distractions." The phone went off again and she groaned in frustration. She pushed him away just enough for her to get by as he chuckled at her. "And where are you going?"

Her eyes rolled before she looked over her shoulder. "Two seconds. Count them." She entered the kitchen, picked up the phone that was fortunately resting on the nearest counter, and returned to Jim who was leaning against wall that she had previously been against.

His eyes watched the phone in her hand as she walked over to him. "You're not going to let me destroy it." He said tilting his head at her and giving her a knowing look.

Anthea smiled and shook her head once. "No, but you might enjoy this." The phone flipped over in her hand and soon had the back covering off. She placed the covering between her teeth to hold as she pulled the battery out and held it out him.

He took it and watched the covering fall from her mouth and into her freed hand. "There. You can keep that until you decide to leave." She slipped the covering back onto the phone then tossed it into a nearby arm chair.

The battery rolled over his fingers as he twirled it. "Interesting, do I _have_ to give it back?"

Her eyes narrowed at him a little then she nodded. "Yes, you have to or no deal." She did not really know what compelled her to take the battery out of the phone, much less give him the battery, but she knew she would get it back one way or another.

He quirked an eyebrow at her as he studied her face. Before, this caused her to feel exposed and severely uncomfortable, now she welcomed it. The expression he took on when he was considering something was nothing out of the ordinary, but the look in his eyes was powerful. It was something she could not begin to describe, but knew that it caused her stomach to do flips.

She watched the hand that was fiddling with the battery slip it into his pocket. "Deal?" It was intended to be a statement, but it somehow turned into a question. Her fingers grasped the top of his jacket lightly and ran them half way down the length of his torso. She unconsciously pulled him toward her which he complied with.

"Deal." His hand rose to her face and pushed her hair away from her neck. The eyes she had been watching had left her face and had taken on a look that suggested admiration. He had a smile that was only barely noticeable, but was broken when he bit onto the corner of his bottom lip. She felt her expression start to contort into confusion, but it faded when she felt his fingertips on the side of her neck that seemed to be tracing a mark he had left on her.

Her eyes closed on their own and she hummed softly in response. The spot tingled with minute traces of pain, but it only caused her mind to flash back to when his mouth had been there. She could feel him smirking at her, which caused her to sigh and hang her head a little. "I cannot tolerate you."

Jim only laughed at her and stopped teasing the bruise he had left. He kissed her cheek then tilted her chin up causing her eyes to open. "Go get some sleep."

"Why?" She almost whined the question. Her right state of mind had not returned and she did not want to return to it just yet.

"Because you need to sleep and I need to think about some things." He pushed on her lower back already guiding her toward her bedroom.

Anthea stepped in front of him again and put a finger to his chest. "You can't leave. How am I supposed to ensure that if I'm asleep?"

"You can't. You just have to trust me when I say I won't be leaving." His grip moved from her back to her waist and he started to push her backward.

She eyed him and considered how good he was at telling the truth. From what they knew, everything he said he would do, he did. There were never any lies or deception. "You have been a man of your word in the past."

"Exactly." They reached the hallway that led to her bedroom and the bathroom. He stopped there and placed a few light kisses on her lips that she gladly returned. "Now, go to bed."

Any other person could have said that to her and she would have considered hitting them. Jim was not any other person and was certainly not keen on having his orders ignored except, that this was not an order, it was a request. It was an audible request.

She nodded once, turned, and walked back to her bedroom. When she opened her door, the urge to turn around to see if he was still there had reached its threshold. He was not there though. She closed the door behind her and crawled into bed wondering about what would happen in the morning.

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><p><em>I know the ending is a little off, but I ran out of steam sort of and I really wanted to get this up. I hope you liked it. I couldn't wait to write this one.<em>

_I love all of my readers reviews!_


	7. Chapter 7

Right. I know it's been a minute and I'm not keeping my pattern to well. I've been trying to finish this comatosing paper (which still isn't complete). I'm afraid that if things don't get simpler at school, my updates will be slower. But I do plan on completing this. I swear it. You can hunt me down if you like. In fact some of you might after reading this.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or it's characters. It belongs to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat.

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><p><em><strong>G for get out of here<strong>_

Jim woke easily from his sleep until his eyes focused properly. He was not in his bed nor was he in his home. This place was lighter, friendlier; somewhere he would never find himself even in death. There was something that was nagging at the back of his head. Something important happened the night before. He propped himself up and his eyes fell on a cup and saucer that was sitting on the table adjacent to him.

The memories from the night before came back to him smoothly. _Of course, how could I forget?_ He had decided to sleep in her apartment because it was nearly four in the morning when his mind had finally settled down. At first he considered slipping into her bed in the night, but thought it better to take the couch just in case. Now that it was morning, his decision proved to be right. If he had forgotten, then surely she would and that could only result in a particular unfortunate wake up.

He sat up letting the blanket he had found fall off of him as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Waking up had never been his favorite thing in the world simply because he did not like the grogginess he felt every time. A sound from the kitchen disturbed his thought process, but caused him to smile briefly. She was awake.

A shiver ran through him suddenly and he was soon aware that he discarded all of his clothes except for his boxers. He located all of his clothes that were lying at the end of the couch and started getting dressed. His shirt was almost over his head when an idea occurred to him. Instead of putting it on, he draped it across his shoulder then fastened his jeans. "A dash of fun with coffee." He said to himself as he made his way towards the kitchen.

She was sitting at the bar in the middle of the room with a cup in front of her that had steam flowing out of it. Her head was resting in one hand while the fingers of the other silently drummed on the counter top. The signs of worry and indecision were all but plastered across her posture. She was wearing the same clothes from the night before, but they were partially hidden by a thin, carmine colored robe. Her hair had dried and still looked disheveled.

Jim leaned his shoulder against the frame of the opening and took a deep breath. "Something smells good."

"There's still some in the…" She stopped mid-sentence when she looked up at him. His plan had already taken affect. He watched her eyes widen as they moved across his bare chest then look away just as a pink tinge started to decorate her cheeks. "…in the pot." Her eyes closed as she finished her sentence and she shook her head.

He walked to the other side of the bar and stopped when he was directly across from her. "Something startle you, dear?"

"Oh, don't start. You know perfectly well." She cleared her throat and raked her fingers through her hair before opening her eyes, fixating on his face. "Do you want coffee or not?"

"No." Jim replied, grinning at her. The frustration was still etched around her eyes that seemed desperate to stay on his face. "You can look you know. Why would I mind?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly then took a drink from her mug. "You're not that tantalizing."

He raised his eyebrows at her then started to walk around the bar. "I could change that opinion for you." Now that he was closer to her, he realized that the color of her robe seamlessly complemented her. He wondered what it would look like on other articles of clothing.

"You could try." Her posture changed as he got closer. The professional, determined, woman returned replacing the relaxed, but flustered girl he had first seen this morning.

Jim stopped beside her and reached an arm around the front of her waist to turn her toward him. He moved her hair behind her shoulder so that he could see the mark again. "Do you have to work today?"

She swallowed nervously as he moved closer and loomed over her. "No, it's my day off."

"Good answer." His lips pressed to her temple softly then her cheek. He slid his hand from her waist to her thigh and smiled against her skin when he heard her breath hitch.

The muscles in his sides tightened a little on their accord and after a short moment he registered why they had. Her fingertips were gliding across his skin, tracing the muscles that covered his ribs while the other hand was sliding up his chest and around his neck causing his shirt to fall to the floor. His eyes closed on their own and he could not stop himself swallowing as the adrenaline began its run through his veins.

The idea that someone could have this affect on him was always focused on a new challenge. If someone appeared that he found entertaining he had a similar reaction. He would indulge and then they would become boring. The woman in front of him had been entertaining every time they had an encounter and she had done the almost impossible. She was always lurking somewhere in the back of his mind no matter what he tried to do. He felt slight pressure on the side of his head that roused him from his thoughts. She was carefully turning his head and he took the hint.

Jim's lips found hers easily and locked them together with a bruising force. He slid a hand into her hair then moved her head to a more suitable angle. The tip of his tongue slid across the edge of her bottom lip. She had barely parted her lips to welcome him when he forced his way through to explore her mouth. The subtle taste of coffee still lingered along with her own taste. He had started to ease her legs apart with his other hand, but she took over, pulling him forcefully to her by one of his belt loops and held him there with her thighs.

His mouth broke away from hers, but she bit into his bottom lip and tugged softly before he could move further away. He groaned feeling the lust cloud his mind, but he welcomed it. She pressed her chest against his then slid her nails along the length of his neck.

The temptation to throw her onto the bar was starting to become irresistible and he was not going to lose his total composure yet. He pulled away from her and kept her from getting to him again. "Aren't you feisty?"

She grinned and looked up at him from under her lashes. "You'd be surprised what I can do when I'm not tied up."

Jim let his thumb run over her slightly swollen lips. "But the things I could do when you are." He was just about to decide that a trip to her bed would not prove to be troublesome when she pushed him away and removed herself from her seat.

There were a few mumbles he could hear from her. The most distinguishable was the word 'no' and it was being repeated more frequently. He watched her walked to the other end of the bar and turn with her face in her hands.

"No. No. This is exactly what… How did…? Why am I even considering that question?" Her arms were thrown into the air and she took a deep breath before looking at him again. "Get out." It was an order and one that sounded like it should not be disobeyed.

"Excuse me?" What was slight confusion was starting to be replaced by anger. There were very rare and almost nonexistent times he would ever comply with an order. This was not one of them.

"I said get out." She was serious about what was coming out of her mouth, but he wanted to know why. Something had crossed her mind that was keeping him at an unwanted distance.

He moved toward her and she took a few easy steps backwards. "What exactly happened inside that head of yours?" The gears were turning in his head trying to read her mind.

"This is what you do." Her hand pushed open a drawer next to her and picked up steak knife without looking. "I hate that I didn't figure it out before, but at least I did. Now, get out."

Jim watched the knife shift in her hand to the perfect grip. She was anticipating that he would come after her for some reason that would call for her to defend herself. He eyed her for a moment before bending to pick up his fallen shirt. "What exactly do I do?"

"Do you like to hear your plans described to you? I figured that would be too dull for a person of your standards." His shirt was on and she had not moved from her position.

"I like to hear about plans I'm not aware of. As you know, I don't like my plans to be out of my control." He moved forward again and waited for her to retreat, but she stood her ground.

Her jaw was clenched in desperate frustration and the look behind her eyes would have been deadly to anyone else. "Why don't you just stalk the head of the operation and not the assistant? It would be easier. You wouldn't have to manipulate anyone. I remember what you did to Molly in order to get to Sherlock and now it's happening to me." She paused in her explanation to take a deep breath and close her eyes to regain her composure.

This was probably going to be his only opportunity he was going to get. He darted forward grasping her hand that held the knife and started to loosen it from her grip. "I told you that I…"

"No! No more!" She screamed, dropping the knife and running into the sitting room. There were sounds of drawers being opened then rummaged though. He guessed there must be some other kind of weapon hidden around her flat and it probably was not the last.

Jim moved into the room and found her tearing through a drawer just as he had expected. She was obviously still too anxious to the think straight to locate the next weapon. This was getting out of hand in his opinion and one of them would need to take complete control before one of them got hurt. It was going to be him.

He quickly made his way over to her and grasped her shoulders firmly to turn her around. "Stop it." She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "Stop!" It was not meant to be a shout, but he was determined to take control over whatever was going through her head.

Her mouth closed and her eyes averted away from him to look at the floor. She was almost trembling with whatever emotion was running though her. He could only guess that it was a combination of resentment and confusion. It was starting to unnerve him and cause the knotting feeling in his stomach to come back.

"Come." Jim said softly, after taking a moment to collect his thoughts. He guided her to the nearest chair which she took immediately. His grip loosened on her shoulder and he knelt down in front of her so that he could see her face. "Look at me."

She shifted in her seat clearly unsure what to do with herself. Her eyes still maintained their position; down and very much away from him. "I don't want to."

He ran a hand through his hair trying to figure out a safe way to go about this. It was in him to simply leave without ever explaining why or care to see her again, but it would be a lie. There was some nagging voice in his head that was telling him to right whatever had gone wrong because that is what he really wanted to do. He did not want to leave her like this, not with her thinking that he was using her for one of his plans.

"It's a good thing you don't work today. I would have unnecessary questions to answer." That got her attention. The anger erupted behind her eyes and he had to stop himself from giving into the temptation to take her then and there. "Joking." He added, smiling up at her.

Her jaw clenched and unclenched a few times while her mouth tightened. There were some sharp words that were aching to attempt and cut him resting on her tongue. It only interested him more.

"You're in no shape to work and you should stay home. It seems you need to consider some things as well." He had known that she would soon come to the realization of the situation, but he did not really expect her to react in this fashion.

After a moment, Jim stood and took one of her hands that had been resting in her lap. "Remember this while you're pacing around." She had looked up at him by then and he fixed his eyes on hers. If he moved his eyes just a fraction, she would notice and interpret it as dangerous. "Like I said last night, I have no reason or inclination to cause you harm. And even if you are the personal assistant to a certain government official that I have interests in, I wouldn't manipulate you."

He watched his words sink into her. She had a nearly blank expression across her face. The only thing left was more confusion. Once he was sure that she was not going to retort, he kissed the back of her hand, then fished her battery out of his pocket. He laid it in her palm, gently placed her hand back in her lap, and left her flat without another word.

His phone rang in his pocket when he had reached the elevator and pushed the button. "What is it?" The car was already waiting on him. He hung up the phone, stepped into the empty elevator, and watched her door until the doors closed.

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><p><em>Please don't kill me. I love all of you!<em>


	8. Chapter 8

I'm so very sorry. I really am. I promise all of you that are reading this and hoping that I don't abandon it, I'm not going to just leave it. I swear on Staying Alive. I can't abandon it. the outline I have is just too good. It's all planned out up to about chapter sixteen and that's where I get stuck, but don't worry. Something will come to me.

This chapter might doesn't feel up to par, but then none of them do when I finish them, so I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Ash and Kay need to accounts so I can thank them (sort of) in person. Since I can't, I'm thanking them here. You two are awesome!

And Ash, I can't promise the humor will still be here. All of these chapters are basically impromtu and if something funny comes out of it, then it's kind of a miracle. I will try though.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Stephen Moffat.

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><p><em><strong>H is for how do I leave<strong>_

Anthea walked up the steps of one the few places she would ever visit herself. She pushed on the button to ring the door and waited patiently. This was the only place she could think of to go after all that had happen. It had been two days after her encounter with Jim Moriarty in her flat that she could only describe as odd and similar to an out of body experience. A woman's voice rang over the intercom that she recognized.

"You're Mycroft's assistant, right?" The woman already knew the answer. Anthea could tell by the tone of her voice.

"May I come in? This isn't a formal visit." She was unsure about her decision to come here, but she could not think of anyone else that could give her even the faintest advice.

The door opened and she stepped through quickly while starting to take off her coat. "I'm guessing she's available?"

"Yes, Miss Adler has decided to take the day off, but you already knew that." Kate took her coat from her and hung it on a rack near the door. "You said this wasn't a formal visit. Am I to guess it's for pleasure?" The other woman grinned mischievously as she started to lead them up the stairs.

"You would be wrong. I'm here to…" She paused to think about how to phrase what she had come here for. "To discuss something personal." It was the most accurate way her mind could come up with.

Kate nodded and only let her grin falter a little. "If you say so. Right through there." She gestured to a door at the end of a polished hallway with impeccable taste.

Anthea smiled politely and thanked her before walking down the hallway and lightly knocking on the door once she had reached it. She took a deep breath to settle the anxiety that was boiling in her abdomen. An anxiety disorder was sure to develop if she made it out of this unforgiving situation alive.

"It's open." The voice sounded far off from the other side of the door and it made her wonder just how large this room was. She eased the door open and entered looking for the hostess.

"Ah, this is a surprise." It came from a corner of the room that was set up like a substitute sitting room; two chairs, a couch opposite, and small table to separate them. "I thought Mycroft would make his visits in person. Has he changed his mind?"

Anthea laughed softly at Irene's remark as she made her way over to that corner of the room. "Oh, no, he will still visit in person." She tilted her head at a fireplace that was inserted into the far wall. There were various objects lying on it and against it that she assumed was used for work and personal affairs.

Irene shifted in her seat on the couch to lean on her knees. "Then is this a social visit? I'm sure I can find something for you." She had a look in her eye that she was not trying to hide. It made Anthea a little uneasy, but she had been in far worse situations.

"It's more of an 'I need information' visit. May I sit?" Anthea asked, resting her hand on the back of the chair that was opposite of her hostess.

"Of course, but what kind of information would you need from me?" The woman leaned back against the couch, laid one of her arms across the back of it, and tucked her legs beside herself. She was dressed in casual pajamas, something Anthea had not expected, but every woman liked to feel comfortable, even dominatrix's.

She took the chair that her hand had been resting on and ran a hand through her hair. "Well, it's a little more than complicated to say the least. I honestly couldn't think of anyone else that would know that's still alive."

"Alive? Curious choice of word to use. Has something happened?" The other woman blinked at her clearly intrigued with how she had started off the heart of the discussion.

Anthea let several different sentences and strategies role around in her head, searching for the right way to say it, but ultimately she could only say it as bluntly as possible. "You were in contact with Mr. Moriarty before?"

"Yes, I was. Trying to stay clear of him now." Irene replied, smiling a little, but still watching her carefully.

She paused before she let the next question pass though her lips. "What was he like?" It was the main reason she was here. There must be some similarities between his encounter with Irene Adler and herself. At first she considered talking to Molly, but she hardly spent time with him when they were "dating". Irene Adler was her last resort and her only resort. Without her she would be wandering around in the dark.

"What was he like?" Irene repeated the question, slightly stunned. "Oh, honey. Has he gotten to you? What does he want?" She was almost too eager to get her questions out.

"No, it's nothing like that." Anthea laughed sarcastically and rolled her eyes. "I don't even know what it's like." She took a breath and started to tell the story of the past month or so of her life. There was not a thing left out because she knew Irene would not scold her for anything she had done and she wanted to know her honest opinion. If the whole truth of story was not told, then she would not find what she was looking for.

After about an hour and half she concluded her story. She somehow ended up completely slumped in her chair and feeling languid. The recount of all of her memories was more than enough to push her stress buttons to the point of breaking.

Irene had changed her position to the edge of her seat, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasped. At some point in the story, she had given Anthea her full attention and only interrupted a few times to ask a question or two. When Anthea finished her story, she took a deep breath and shook her head a little with a smile. "Dear, you have got yourself into some kind of predicament."

Anthea nodded and rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. "I have no idea what to do about it. There are several options, but which one is right?"

"I never really concern myself with what's right, but I can see why you would want to know." Irene sighed softly and gave her a concerned look. "The real question is what do you want to do?"

She gave the other woman a confused look and considered the question. On one hand, she wanted to do the morally, and possibly legally, right thing and never concern herself with James Moriarty again. The other hand was filled with temptation. The temptation to indulge in the shadows. When she thought about it, everything about the man was tempting in one way or another.

Her thoughts were halted when her hostess spoke. "By the look on your face, I can tell you want it." The woman had a knowing smirk on her lips. "I can't blame you either. If I was sure he wouldn't have me assassinated, I'd have a go at him." She stood and walked over to a glass table that held a few glasses and a bottle of amber liquid.

"Could I trouble you for some of that?" Anthea asked nodding her head at the bottle. It was something that could redirect her mind slightly.

Irene smiled and poured them both a glass. "No trouble at all. Do you like brandy?" She handed her a glass and then settled back in her seat.

"I do. Never tried it until I started working for Mycroft. He gave me a small bottle for Christmas awhile ago." The liquid went down as smooth as any other brand. It was probably why it was becoming her favorite drink of choice.

Irene laughed softly and swirled the alcohol in her glass. "I hope he doesn't drive you to drinking more than you should. He seems very demanding."

"It's not him, it's what we do and I'm sure you have an idea what that is." She leaned her head back against the chair and took a deep breath.

The other woman had stood again and moved over to her. She placed a hand on the one that was not holding the glass running her thumb over Anthea's fingers. "If it's what you really want, then the consequences will be worth it."

Anthea nodded and stared at nothing in particular. "I think I'll stay here a little longer. Let my head clear some. If you don't mind."

Her hostess shook her head once and stroked Anthea's hair. "Not all. Take a nap. I wasn't going to say anything at first, but you look like you haven't slept in a week."

She laughed while running her hand over her face. "Then I look better than I feel." The rest of the brandy was downed quickly then she placed the glass on the table in front of her. "Thank you, Irene."

The woman smiled at her kindly. "Stay as long as you like."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Jim had finished up a meeting with some of his most respected clients in his books. He entered the lot and started for the spot he remembered the car parked in.

His mind had been less cluttered over the last handful of days. There were not any tormenting thoughts about the woman he had left sitting in her flat, but there were still thoughts. They only ceased taunting him in the way they used to. He had somewhat of a handle on the way things were and was more than content with that. Even he knew that every emotion and urge could not be locked away forever and he was gradually accepting it.

Instead of his car, he found a familiar, sleek, black car in the same spot. At first he was nearly thrilled to see it, but very soon realized that it was not the person he was expecting to see step out of the car. It was Mycroft Holmes and his ever present neat three piece suit and umbrella.

"Hello, Mr. Moriarty. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important." Mycroft said politely as he closed the car door behind him. He walked around it to stand opposite of Jim.

"Luckily for you, no." Jim took an annoyed breath to focus himself. "What brings you to the car lot, Mycroft?"

The other man looked down at the umbrella handle in his hand before replying. "You've taken an interest in my assistant. I want to know why."

He only arched an eyebrow at his opponent for the time being. There was no reason he should answer right away so, he kept still and made no move to reply. His unresponsiveness was impacting Mycroft and he watched the unease fall across him until it became too much.

"I'm a patient man, but you're testing my patience at the wrong time." Mycroft sounded as if he was ready to signal someone to shoot Jim down, but he knew that would not happen. Not out in the open, in daylight, with potential witnesses lurking around, and certainly not with himself at risk of being harmed.

Jim let his expression go blank. "Is it a problem?"

"Yes, it is." His voice raised a notch and the response was sharp. The composure of Mycroft Holmes was slipping.

"Certainly your employees are allowed to socialize. You don't exactly have them under lock and key in a dungeon under the Tower of London or are you getting to that?" He wanted know how much of Mycroft's composure would slip away before he either gave up or let his emotions rule this meeting.

Mycroft straightened his back and eyed him. "They are allowed to socialize, but not with you."

"I'm hurt, Mycroft. Really I am." Jim could not stop the smirk that was forming at the corners of his mouth. "Am I considered a bad influence?"

"Let's stop dancing around the topic, Jim. Why have you taken an interest in her?" He had stiffened and gripped the handle of the umbrella tighter. It seemed as if he would break soon.

Jim leaned against the government car looking away from Mycroft. "Funny, isn't it? You're more protective of her than you are your own younger brother. Are you sure you have your priorities in order?" He turned his head to look at him and the grin widened.

"Answer the question and we can both be on our way." There was thread of patience left in Mycroft's voice.

He had decided the taunting had gone on long enough when he glanced at his watch. There was somewhere he needed to be soon and further stalling would make him late. "I'm interested because she's interesting."

Mycroft scoffed in response as the end of his umbrella left the ground temporarily. "You find her interesting. Is that all?"

"Of course that's all. What else would there be?" Jim pushed off the car feeling the need to move around to suppress some odd notion to defend himself.

"With the way you've been acting, which I do know of to an extent, I would say you find her… fascinating." The other man paused as he looked over him expecting him to squirm.

Jim only rolled his eyes in response. "Mycroft, your deductive skills are only just mediocre. Don't embarrass yourself further. Sherlock would be insulted."

Mycroft only glared at him for a few moments. The intimidation was there, but it lacked the strength it would take for it to impact him. "Would you be kind enough to retract your new interest?"

He shook his head slowly and gave the man a disappointed look then turned around to see his car pull up behind him. "Seems your negotiated time is up."

The man opposite him made no move to reply or to stop him as he walked to his car. He opened the door and paused before climbing in. "You really should learn to share. Its good manners to let the other kids play with your nice things." With his final remarks said, he slid into the car, closed the door, and instructed the driver to proceed to the next destination.

Jim was already planning on visiting his 'new interest' in the near future. He had heard nothing out of her or seen her anywhere. The day after he left her flat, he decided that he was going to wait before demanding any kind of information out of her. He also knew that he would have to tread carefully around her when bringing the subject matter up.

The only object keeping him from what he wanted was her perplexed mind. He knew what he wanted or at least most of what he wanted. It had nothing to do with who she worked for, what connections she had, or even what she could do for him in his career. He wanted to entertain whatever his mind had fixated on her for. There was also the mystery of what he had inadvertently fixated on and why. It was nothing more or less than that.

He counted the days since he had last seen her and decided to give her two more days and then he would pay her a visit. The next mission that concerned her would be figuring out her name. Her anonymity was clever, but he needed something else to call her other than 'the woman'.

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><p><em>Well, there it is. I hope you weren't terribly disappointed.<em>

_I can't guarantee that I will have the next chapter up by the next weekend, but I promise to try._


	9. Chapter 9

How have you all not killed me yet? So, sorry for how long this took. I don't know what's wrong with me. I treat you all so harshly when all of you are so kind. I'm starting on the next chapter tonight! I swear. I hope this chapter isn't too disappointing.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or the characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.**

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><p>"Bathroom essentials are done, now for entertainment." Anthea was performing a well known routine of packing for a trip out of the country. She had done it so many times, she considered trying to do it with her eyes closed. The many sharp edges around her flat argued against the idea and won.<p>

It was in the same order every time because once she forgot the documents that she was supposed to take with her for Mycroft. One of her first mistakes that he had predicted and brought copies just in case. Now, each time she had to pack, she would stick to the routine and nearly triple check everything to make sure they were in the right place.

She and Mycroft were headed to Lebanon for four days and leaving that night. Not even half way around the world, but it was going to feel like it. There was no complaint on her end. In her personal opinion, she needed another trip out of the country; stay under a roof that did not remind her of how difficult her private life had become.

Midway into gathering potential reading material, there was a knock on the door. Everyone she knew that would fathom visiting would call first and her phone had not rang since she had returned home early in order to pack. This caused a cool sensation to run over her that stirred a gut feeling to not open the door.

It was simple to figure out who was on the other side of the door. Easy, but unsettling. If she did not open the door then it would open itself. That thought forced her mind to make itself up. Since there was going to be someone in her home, she was not going to let them let themselves in while she was there. Not again.

The lock turned between her fingers before she turned the door knob to open it to its full extent. Of course, her guess was correct. There he was dressed in full tailored armor to wreck havoc on her mental state. "This better not take long. I'm in the middle of something."

She watched Jim peer over her shoulder to investigate her statement. "Really? Anything I might benefit from?" He took a step forward as if to enter, but she placed her hand on the doorframe to block him.

"I don't remember inviting you in." Anthea replied determined to win against part of her head telling her to be quiet and let him do as he pleases.

Jim turned his head slightly to look at her for a moment and then down the hallway. "We could stand out here if you like." His voice was casual and unnervingly calm to her. It still had its flavor though; light with just enough Irish to stir it up.

The risk of him being outside her door for any length of time dawned on her. Neglecting her better judgment, she grabbed his arm and pulled him in before shutting the door. "Fine, you win. What do you want?" She made her way back to her task at hand not wanting to delay her routine any further, leaving him near the door to escort himself in. The books were laid in the suitcase then she started organizing the files that were on her dining room table. Not all of them concerned Lebanon.

"Are you going somewhere?" His voice nearly stung from its position across the room. The tone was blatant at letting her know he was being sarcastic, so she kept silent on the matter. "You're not trying to get away from me, are you?"

That was not expected, but at the same time, she was not all too surprised. Him being in the room while she was in the middle of packing was starting to annoy her. She took a deep breath to quiet her mind and turned to face him. "What do you want, Mr. Moriarty?" Her voice had slipped into its professional tone. It seemed like the only way to try and move things along.

He was standing over the closed suitcase that was resting on her couch. There was nothing in it yet. It was for clothes and those were packed last. "What do I want? Interesting question. Been asking myself that for awhile now." She watched him move around the room and stop near the other end of the dining table. "I think you have too."

Anthea fought the reaction to walk to the other side of the room. She had shown enough weakness around him and she refused to show anymore. "Shall we keep the subject of the conversation on you? You are the guest."

Jim smiled and shifted his weight slightly so that he could lean against the table. "Guests are superior, darling." He started to move a few files around making the alarm sound off in her head.

Everything was organized in some way and she did not want to start all over again. She walked over to him, pulled on the cuff of his suit jacket to move his hand, and made herself look at him. "Could you refrain from touching anything that looks vaguely important?"

"Don't I get a please?" There was a feigned innocent expression on his face. She only shook her head in response and moved around him to pick up a few of the files she would need.

The feeling of being watched crept up and down her spine, threatening to make her hands tremble. It was far worse than being out in public and thinking she was watched. This was where her private life thrived that was now harboring an invader willingly. An invader that was watching her from across the table causing a multitude of contradictory feelings to arise.

Another moment of silence passed before he decided to break it. "Where are you going? Somewhere exotic?"

"I can't disclose that kind of information, you know that." Anthea could finally breathe. Conversation, or what counted as conversation with him, was easier to deal with than silent tension that could knock and unsuspecting bystander off their feet.

He made a humming sound that she assumed meant he accepted the reply she gave him. Regrettably, but thankfully, he continued. "Alright, if you won't tell me where…" The pause gave her concern, so she looked up and was a little relieved to find him in the same spot instead of closer to her. He was still watching her, but the intensity seemed to falter. "When will you be returning?"

A regular person could ask her that and it would nothing, but the man standing in front of her was far from regular. It would be safe to say that he was nearly the opposite of it. Why would he concern himself with when she would be returning? A part of his last departing words rang in her head when she thought seriously about it. _I wouldn't manipulate you._ That, however, did not help her understand why. It only confused her more. She hated that some small part of her was flustered by his question. It liked that he wanted to know.

"Why do you want to know?" The files she had picked up were held close to her chest to give an illusion of comfort. She would have to put them down before she started fiddling with them. Gathering her mental self back together, she moved over to an accordion folder that would hold the files.

The folder had just closed when she saw him move over to her and take one of her hands gently. He lazily played with her fingers as she straightened herself. When did any contact from him start causing her heart beat to speed up and sparks to go off wherever he touched her? There was a suffocating lump of nerves that had made its home in the middle of her throat. She swallowed it the best she could and refocused her mind to a degree.

He seemed to time his reply perfectly with her mind returning to where it should be. "It would please me to know. Is that a crime for you?"

No use in trying to avoid answering the question. She knew that he was going to get it from her one way or another. The chink in her armor was starting to become larger with his visits. "Four days."

Jim looked down as he continued to play with her fingers. "Four days." He repeated, appearing to consider if her answer was honest. She was not sure why he would. Nothing she ever said to him was a lie, but the scene that she had created around her flat would cause anyone to wonder if she was only leaving for a few days.

A short moment passed before he looked at her again and smiled faintly. He leaned down to place a light kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you in four days." Her hand was let go of as he strolled out of her flat and closing the door with him.

She immediately sank into the nearest chair and took a deep breath that she had to force into her lungs. Things were moving forward in a very dangerous way for her. The only hope was that she could get through it alive.

The first day in Lebanon was relaxed, simple, and nothing was required of them until the next day. Anthea spent the majority of her day unpacking her things and placing them relatively to where they would be in her own home. It helped her sleep easier in hotels, especially in different countries. Even though every hotel she had stayed in since she started working for the British government, was nothing short of luxurious. Her ritual of placing her possessions where she wanted them brought the familiarity of the 'home sweet home' feeling into the room.

She was unsure of why she felt the need to do it this time around. Her home was not home in her mind anymore. A certain troublesome person could wander in whenever they pleased for whatever purpose, if there was one. Each morning she woke up with the anxiety of anticipating the same troublesome person to be lurking around a corner.

What troubled her more, was the fact that her anxiety was split down the middle. It was separated into uncomfortable excitement and deadly uneasiness. She could not relax after she had checked every room in her flat after waking and after returning home.

Comfort could be taken in Beirut, Lebanon. There were several thousand miles between her flat and the hotel room she was standing in. She had to stop and take a breath several times throughout the day to remind herself of that. The more she did it, the more she became dependant on it and that was damaging for her future self. Once their business in Lebanon had concluded in, now, three and half days, she would be returning home to the flat that she was trying to forget.

She decided that work would keep her busy enough to occupy her mind from becoming leached onto the foreign comfort. However, it seemed another outside influence would counter that decision.

During the four days, Anthea kept thinking she saw someone out of the corner of her eye. Whenever she looked, no one would be there. At first, she assumed it was only her paranoia getting to her and that she only needed to relax, but the third day of her stay proved her wrong.

She had been at an upscale restaurant with Mycroft and some of the politicians they were aiding when she caught a little more than a glimpse of the man that had been hiding in her blind spot.

The man was not overly dressed, but still wore the appropriate attire for the place he was in. He did not seem comfortable in it and when she thought about it, the other times she thought she saw him, he was in pedestrian clothes. Clothes that would blend in with the people around him. She considered the option that Jim Moriarty could have sent someone to watch her after figuring out where she was, but there was no reason why he would. At least not one that was logical, even for him. He did not look like any of his men either. She had made sure to commit their faces to memory, just in case.

Another problem with that theory was she only saw him while she was around Mycroft. This worried her more than when she assumed she was being stalked. There was always a worry of someone finding out what he did and where he was by the wrong someone. On more than one occasion, she had seen a man taken down for keeping tabs on her boss. It was never a pleasant sight to be witness to, but she had to be the one to identify them.

During the fourth day that consisted of finalizing any official documents and last minute questions, she only saw the man once. He was outside the government building, leaning on one of the columns, and smoking a cigarette. She could not obtain an ideal view of him, but she knew that something was curious about him.

There was never anyone with him. He always dressed the part he was trying to conceal himself in. His positions for viewing were always just out of sight for the both of them. It was why she only saw him out of the corner of her eye most of the time. The incident at the restaurant could not be avoided. It was either be seen or abandon the job for the day. Today, she was on one of the higher floors while Mycroft was busy with the higher authorities of the country. The higher floor provided a nearly perfect view of the front, but it only happened by chance that she should recognize him.

Large wooden doors opened behind her, but she stayed where she was by the window. She only looked away when she felt a hand on her arm. "Everything alright?" Mycroft asked looking in the direction she had been.

"I'm not sure yet." She looked away from him to peer at the man who still held his position. "Do you see that man? The one leaning against the column?"

Mycroft scanned the ground below them before he spotted who she was referring to and then nodded. "Do you suspect anything?"

Anthea paused considering what she had gotten from viewing the man. "I'm not sure. He hasn't shown any violence towards you, not even a despising look, but he has been following since your second day here."

"Well, we're headed back to the hotel then the plane, so I don't think we should worry unless he arrives in England with us." He left it at that and walked away from the window after a brief moment.

She relaxed at the thought of leaving that night. If the man appeared in England then he would be arrested at the airport and there would not be another word about him. Even if she would be going home, it was still returning to the routine of checking her flat for any unexpected visitors. There was a downside no matter how she thought about it.

After the visit to the hotel to gather their belongings, the quiet, but stiff ride had begun. Anthea's neck had started to become sore from how many times she turned her head to look out of any window she could find. Mycroft had tried to settle her, but he knew better than to try too hard. Once she had spotted a potential person that could harm him, she committed to it.

It did not take long to get to the airport and less time to board the small, government assigned plane. Mycroft position afforded them with that luxury. There was never any need for customs.

She entered after Mycroft and handed over her luggage to one of the men that worked on the plane. There was never any reason to remember the crew's names because they changed every time they flew. They were informed of the expected flight time as they took their seats and offered refreshments. Anthea only asked for water then indulged in the cushioned and recline capable seat before the plane was even in the air.

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><p><em>No pseudo title for this one. I edited my outline and the title I had planned didn't work.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed it._

_I'll trying to do better at updating._


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, everyone! I know it's kind of rare now that I update so quickly, but I felt really bad about making you wait two weeks. I promise to try and not do that again. So, here's the next bit. And do be sure to read the author's note at the end. I need your votes in order to continue with the story. You get to choose I direction!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Nearly four hours later, the plane landed at London airport in the late hours of the night. The plane came to smooth halt near the far end of the airport where a car was already waiting for them near the hanger.<p>

Anthea always enjoyed flying at night if she could not sleep. She could look down at the world and see clusters of lights dot the Earth.

Once the plane had stopped, she stood to stretch her legs and to peer out of one of the windows on the opposite side. There was no sign of the man she had seen in Beirut, but he could still be elsewhere. Experts had been known to find Mycroft's itinerary through extreme means.

They exited the plane as she scanned the empty pavement for anything that looked remotely out of the ordinary. Nothing jumped out at her which was usually a sign it was all clear. However, she would not relax until she received confirmation from the head of surveillance and acting head of security. No one could ever handle being head of security for an extended period of time, so several people were hired to switch out when authorized to.

The messages came to her phone soon after she had taken the last step off the plane. They had not found anything. She smiled at the reassurance and gave a nod to Mycroft over her shoulder before taking her bag from the same man that had received it before.

A hand on her shoulder stopped her from proceeding to the car. The other men had piled back into the plane, so they were left alone, apart from the driver who was still in the car.

"I need to speak with you again and I would prefer to do it now." Mycroft said from behind her. She turned around not sure what to expect this time. With present circumstances it could be several subjects that she was unprepared for.

Anthea decided to say it first. His facial expression gave away what he wanted to discuss with her. It was the same look that he had when he confronted her about being seen with Moriarty. "You know he was in my flat the day we left."

He merely nodded and waited for her to proceed.

"I don't know why he was there. Never said, but I suppose I shouldn't expect him to explain anything he does." Her hand raked through her hair as she talked. "He asked me where I was going and I didn't tell him."

Mycroft visibly relaxed as he started to say something, but she cut him off. If she was going to try and keep out of most of the danger, she was going to disclose what she felt comfortable disclosing.

"I did tell him that I would be back in four days." The tension returned almost immediately, but she was not met with the expected scornful look. He only looked curious and faintly concerned.

"You told him or did he ask you when you would return?" Questions like that always meant that he was trying to figure out something. The meaning behind the action or even the person.

Her expression contorted into confusion in reaction to his question, but answered regardless. "He asked me."

Mycroft took a deep breath and took a few paces away from her. His back was to her, but she could see that he was trying to decide how to word his next sentences. He returned after a quiet moment had passed, tapping the end of his umbrella on the ground as he did. "Anthea, my concern connected with your situation has escalated."

The thought about asking him why crossed her mind, but he looked prepared to explain himself further.

"About a week and a half ago, I held a conversation with Jim Moriarty. I was alarmed at his new interest in you and decided to attempt to obtain answers. Unfortunately, I did not. All I know is that he has taken a strong interest in you which does not seem to be faltering." He stopped to survey her.

His delivery of the information was calm, collected, and unrushed. It was clear that he did not want to tell her these things, but it appeared he had reached an impasse.

She was not all too surprised at the information. The only part that did shock her a little was that Mycroft sought out the villain. He might have not told her that, but when he looked for answers, he always went after them whether or not it was in a convenient way.

Anthea shifted her focus from her boss to the ground for a minute to gather her thoughts. She was being divided again. One part of her had sunk to the ground while the other fluttered around. The seconds past and she looked back up at Mycroft. "What now?"

"I'm unsure." He shifted his weight to lean a little on his umbrella. "I don't want to keep you locked up somewhere, but I don't want you in any danger. I can't recommend relocation because I know he would find you there."

The dire need for a chair made itself noticeable. She was half tempted to sit on the pavement. Reality seemed to be washing over here more than ever. What she wanted was ruling out what was right. It would be right to move to another location or at least attempt to, but she did not want this oddly irresistible nuisance.

Mycroft broke her train of thought when she had not replied to him. "I just want you safe. You know that you're irreplaceable." He had said it in a normal tone, but she could not help the small amount of laughter that swelled in her chest. It was something to make her feel a bit better.

She shook her head in disbelief at how much had change in the course of a few months. "The risks of working for Mycroft Holmes. It's worth it."

He gave her a half smile before returning to the professional exterior. "I think you should try to make yourself safer. Whichever option that might be. Another home, more surveillance, whatever you want."

Anthea nodded along with the list considering them. The fight in her head was nearing violent. Her interest in one of the men they had to watch constantly for the safety of the country was now affecting her safety. She did not want to give up her nothing less than thrilling interactions, but what if something happened one day? Anything could turn the table into something that could very well cause the friendly visits into a confrontation with a gun.

The logic ended up winning out in the end. It was not by much, but if it was her life versus only having a little fun, life was far more valuable. "Tomorrow. We'll discuss all of the options tomorrow." Her answer was met with a steady nod.

"Tomorrow it is." Those were the last words of the conversation. They made their way to the car and climbed in on opposite sides.

Neither of them noticed the figure shielded by a hanger door, wearing a leather trimmed coat only a few feet away from the car.

Anthea walked into her darkened flat half an hour later to find, at least what she could see, in the same order it was when she left. Nothing had been moved, there were not any new scratch marks on the lock, and she could only hear silence. Relief came over her almost at once. She had fully expected to come back to a visitor.

Her suitcase was left by the door when she made her way into the kitchen. Some of the Scotch that Mycroft had given her a few Christmas's ago sounded ideal. She had been drinking nothing, but bottled water for four days and she wanted something with flavor.

The bottle was almost retrieved from its designated location when a shuffling sound caught her attention. "Oh, please no." She breathed as her head dropped in defeat. They had just got back into the country, she had made a nauseating decision, all she wanted to do was have her drink, a bath, and then lay in her own luxury bed.

After knocking the crown of her head softly against one of the cabinets, she took a deep breath, and moved into the sitting room where the noise had come from. What she saw was roughly what she expected. Everything was in its place except for the new addition that came and went as he pleased.

He was standing at one of the floor to ceiling windows. His head was tilted to one side and he had his hands behind his back with one griping the wrist of the opposite arm. An air of eerily calm was the first thing to come to her mind when she saw him. There was something different about him that made goose bumps start to rise on her skin.

She ignored whatever it was for the time being. "I should have known. You may sit if you like." The sarcasm was a product of annoyance and general tiredness.

"I'm curious." He paused to look down at the street before continuing. "Are you always influenced when making important decisions?"

Her immediate thought was that she had no idea what he was talking about because how could he have known about a conversation that only happened half an hour ago? That was going to be what she would stick with until more information presented itself. "What, exactly, are you talking about?"

He turned toward her and she could see his expression clearly now. It matched whatever air he was giving off. She would even risk describing it as dead.

"You know what." He moved away from the window and to one side of the couch. "Don't play dumb. We both know it doesn't become you."

"Important decisions is a vague description for me. As far as I know you could referencing to the security of Buckingham Palace or the interior design of my home." Anthea sunk into the chair she had last sought refuge in from the previous conversation. She felt as if she was wearing thin on the entire situation.

His postured stiffened before he made his way over to her, stopping next to her. He took her chin carefully and turned her head so that she was forced to meet his gaze. "I don't want to hurt, but if I have to…"

She assumed he let the sentence drop off to spark any fear in her, but she would not allow it. "And why don't you want to hurt me? It's a little suspicious of you to not hurt someone in one way or another."

"I don't like to hurt the things that interest me." His voice was calm, but she could detect the strain.

Mycroft was right about him being interested in her, but she also did not know why. It was going to as much of a mystery to her. Perhaps she could find out before anything negative happened.

"Interest you? You've made it clear that you're not interested in obtaining information from me, so what else could I possibly have to offer you?" Her voice was far stronger than how she felt.

He only smiled slightly down at her. "I've been trying to answer that question myself." With that he walked away from her.

Anthea could tell the discussion was not over, so she moved it along. "Go back to the 'important decisions'. Could you elaborate?" As an afterthought she something she hoped would help. "Please?"

"Well, since you asked nicely." His shadow appeared next to her before he did. "Which options were you thinking of to make yourself 'safer'?"

She could nearly see the quotations in the air and it made her go ridged. How could he know? Yes, he was good, but no one that did not work for the government was that good.

"Your silence isn't reassuring." He was standing somewhere to the side of her and it disturbed her.

"That is something I do not have to explain to you of all people." Her legs made her rise on their own accord and move to the opposite end of the room. Every part of her wanted away from him.

His head shook slightly as his voice grew darker. "No, you really do." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I insist on it."

"Why? So you can have more ammunition? Believe me you have enough." Anthea ran a hand through her hair as she turned away from him to walk towards the window he had been standing at.

"Are you always going to let Mycroft decide things for you in your personal life?" His voiced lightened again. He was obviously humored and annoyed at his own question.

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "He doesn't. Your in depth study of me is severely inaccurate."

"Is it?" He crossed the room easily as he proceeded to speak. "Then why can I decipher that you don't want to be relocated or have more security around you? That you would much rather keep having these visits from me?" The question ended in time with him stopping a few feet from her. "Don't deny it. That only works in front of Mycroft."

She swallowed nervously hating herself for agreeing with him, but also starting to worry about what would happen if she went through with her plan for tomorrow. Her location would be sealed and locked away in some filing cabinet that Mycroft would not even know about, but she knew that somehow Jim Moriarty would find her just to prove her and Mycroft wrong. Security would only make her feel uneasy and she knew she would end up arranging undesired, but much desired encounters. Her thoughts had almost completely engrossed her that she only just noticed the change in Jim's expression.

He no longer looked dead and almost hostile. It had softened to blankness with a touch of concern. His eyes were no longer on her face, but below her neck. A curse formed in her mouth, but it was forgotten when her automatic reaction took over.

Human curiosity always won over whatever someone wanted to do first. She looked down to find what he was looking at. Her assumption was wrong, very wrong. The thing that had drawn his focus away from her face was a small, red dot of light that was hovering over her heart. Several thoughts crossed her mind, but the last one was pain.

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><p><em>Well, I expect some of you want to shoot me or something, but I still do want your votes.<em>

_I came up with two ideas for two very different directions and I can't decide which one I want to take. And I can't combine them._

_So, I want my readers to choose!_

_What would you like to read: A revenge on Jim or a look into part of Anthea's past?_

_Leave your choice in either a review, send me a message, or even feel free to answer on my tumblr - cleverspinster . tumblr . com_

_Jim 3. Anthea 2. As of 7:07pm EST_


	11. Chapter 11

A/N - Do not ask me how this ended up being this long. I have a theory. Realized that what I write is next to crap compared to what I could do, but I lack patience and I have a strong dislike for words. Anyway the vote is in... Revenge on Jim was the winner. Though not by much. For those that wanted Anthea's history, I'm considering doing a one shot on that, but still unsure. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Jim had been observing the confused thoughts running through her mind when something caught his eyes. He glanced at the window to discover a red light passing through it. The light was unsteady at first, shaky, and still searching for its target. Once it settled, he looked back at the woman in front of him and discovered that whoever it was had found their mark.<p>

He did the first thing that came to his mind and grabbed her arm to pull her behind him. The sound of glass breaking shook him from the daze he had not realized he was in. His grip on her was firm and would probably bruise, but she was still up right. He searched for the light again, but could not locate it.

Glass covered part of the floor and a slight wind was slipping through the large hole in the window. There was a hole ripped into the back of couch, but still no marker. It got under his skin that something this severe had happened here.

His mind started to work at full capacity when he fully realized what had happened. Someone had attempted to murder the woman behind him. For what reason, he did not know, but nonetheless, it infuriated him. No one dared to interfere with his affairs and expected to succeed. The more he thought about the possibility of what would have happened if he had not decided to come here nearly caused him to start shaking with anger, but a hand on his shoulder pulled him further back into reality.

He turned around and let her arm go. She looked almost passive apart from the fear behind her eyes. "Kitchen. Stay in front of me." His voice was quiet, so that he would not startle her more.

She only nodded once then turned to relocate herself into the safer room. A tug on the sleeve of his coat caused him to look down. Two of her fingers had gripped it for, what he assumed security. Something tangible to hang onto until the shock wore off.

They reached the doorway to kitchen without any other scares. He directed her to the farthest end of the bar and urged her to sit by placing a little pressure on her shoulder. It caused her eyes to widen and she hissed moving away from him.

Confused at first, he released her then realized why she had reacted in such a way. There was blood on his hand and it had come from a wound on her. When he looked back at her, she had slumped against the bar and was seated on the floor inspecting the damage. She let out a frustrated sigh when her blouse obscured her view, so she stripped it off and tossed it across the floor leaving her in a camisole. It seemed the bullet had grazed part of her upper arm, but nothing serious.

Jim looked around the room briefly and found a dish towel hanging off of one of the cabinets. He snatched it from its respected place and crouched in front of her. Carefully, he moved her hand away from the wound and pressed the fabric to it. Her head hit bar softly and he heard her let out a painful groan.

After a moment, she spoke for the first time. Her voice was strained from the pain she was obviously feeling. "I'm guessing this wasn't your doing."

He would have snapped at her, but there was a slight humor in her voice. "No, afraid not." His focus was still on her arm. The blood was still flowing, but it was slower. "Could you do me a favor?"

"Okay." Her muscles tensed when he pressed the cloth tighter against the graze, but she did not make a sound.

"Reach into my coat pocket and take my phone. Press the first speed dial." He could have done it himself, but for which ever reason he would decide on later, he was more concerned about the damage done to her.

His eyes darted between her and the blood running partly down her arm. It did not seem to ail her to move, but he could still see the discomfort around her eyes. She leaned against the bar again when the phone had been retrieved and pressed the speed dial. He took the phone from her slowly before moving her hand to hold the towel against her arm. Most of the blood on his hand had wiped off onto the towel, but he still transferred the phone to that hand and pressed it to his ear.

While it rang, he watched her carefully. Normal people reacted differently to being shot or being threatened with being shot, but then she was not one of the normal people he had to deal with. She was someone that dealt with more dangerous things on a daily basis and still challenged herself in his presence. There was no doubt in his mind that this was not the first time someone had tried to shoot her. The thought stirred his anger further, but he kept it under his skin for the present moment.

His free hand brushed a lock of hair away from her face causing her to look at him. Her confusion was still apparent and it made him smile a little. An urge to kiss her overcame him, but before he had time to act on it a voice came from his phone.

"Sebastian." He stood and moved away from her to the other side of the room. "Where are you? No, it doesn't matter. Drop whatever it is and come here." At first, there was no argument, but his murderous companion started to protest.

"No, I mean now. Not in five minutes, not in thirty seconds, now." His voice had grown in volume without him realizing it. "I want you to find whoever it was. Find what spot he used. Find whoever they work for. Find them!" He had to stop and take a breath to calm himself further. "Am I clear, darling?"

The agreement was not hesitant and he ended the call. He moved into the sitting room again to survey the scene from a different angle. Nothing had moved apart from a few papers that had been blown off the table. The same files were there from his last visit.

He moved to the broken window to look out at the street and other buildings. There were several places for a sniper to pick, but only one would be the perfect spot and Sebastian would find it. A few people wandered the street, but none of them looked like the person he was searching for. His opportunity had slipped by without him knowing. It was either look for the sniper or take care of her. The decision was made unconsciously.

"Jim." That was the first time he heard his name come from her. It was not an ideal time for a first, but from what he had observed, there was no ideal time for anything. He turned to find her leaning against the doorframe on her good arm. She had a new towel pressed to her arm.

"Feeling rested and rejuvenated?" He asked looking her over. She seemed a little more collected than before.

"He smokes." The corner of her mouth twitched when she shifted the towel.

His expression shifted slightly as he moved closer to her. He started to tell himself that she was still in shock, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise. "You know who did this?"

She shook her head slowly. "I don't _know_, per se, but I saw him on my trip."

"How are you sure that it's this man?" Jim had placed himself in front of her again. His interest had been peaked along with more anger that was being fueled by the new information.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure, but it's the best guess I have." Her eyes had narrowed at him in frustration. "Take it or leave it."

He felt his jaw clench on its own as he considered what she was telling him. It could not hurt to assume that this was the man. That would provide more to look for once Sebastian arrived, which reminded him that they needed to leave.

"Fine, but we need to go." Whatever intimate feelings had escaped his barrier, were being pushed down again. The authority returned to his tone and it would not take no for answer.

She moved to block his path when he started to pass her. "Where exactly are _we_ going and who says I'm going anywhere?"

Jim gave her an amused look. "For one, you need stitches." He glanced at her arm for a moment then returned to her face. "And you're going, whether you like it or not. You can't put up much of a fight right now."

Her eyes looked to the nearly shattered window and she heaved a sigh into her lungs. "Anthea."

"What?" He searched his mind for anything that connected with the name. The only thing he found was a mention of it in some of the research he had done on her. It was one of the names she used and it dawned on him. "Oh, I see. Your name."

"Well, I figured if I'm going to be spending and extended time in your presence, you might as well know my name." She pushed off the doorframe and walked back into the kitchen.

"But why tell me your real name? You could have just given me another pseudo name." He followed and watched her open the freezer. She pulled out a bottle of vodka, opened it, doused the towel in it, and returned it back to her arm.

"What would be the point?" Her reply came through gritted teeth. It surprised him a little that she had treated it herself, but neglected to comment on it. The explanation only defeated his question. There was no reason for her to hide her name any longer.

He walked over to her and placed a hand on her back. "Let's go. Sooner the better." She only hesitated for a moment to make sure she had her phone and then let him guide her to her door, down to the street, and into his car waiting at the curb.

The car ride was spent in silence. What do people talk about after an attempted murder that occurred only minutes ago? Silence was the accepted social convention this time around. Jim's phone was the only thing to disturb the quiet. It was a reply from Sebastian only to let him know that he would keep an eye out for cigarette butts.

Within an hour the car stopped at a building that seamlessly blended into the rest of the world. There was nothing spectacular about it. Someone could even describe it as bland.

Jim slid out of the car in a one fluid motion and started directly to the door letting his driver help Anthea out of the car. A small, older man with a nervous expression was waiting there with a black bag in his grasp.

"It's nothing fatal, but do the job right." He told the man firmly and handed him a little wad of cash. The other man took it with a nod, never making eye contact then entered the building to walk hurriedly into a room off to the left.

"Such a gentleman. Leaving the wounded behind." Anthea teased from behind him with the driver at her side. "Perhaps I should run off into the night with him."

The driver stiffened as Jim turned to meet them. "Should you?" He quickly looked to his driver and fixated on him. There was no reason for him to feel threatened by the man whose name he did not know, but the twinge of jealousy still emerged.

She touched his arm to gain his attention and shook her head at him. "Let him be. It's hard to find good men that keep silent." He only let his eyes show the humor he felt towards her response and dismissed his driver who scurried off into the car.

They entered the building and he directed her to a room off to the right that was near the staircase. It was the room he spent most of his time in these days; the living room. Everything he needed, apart from food, was in this room.

"So, do I get to know where I am or is that confidential?" She slowly made her way to the nearest place that she could sit which happened to be the couch.

"This is my home." Jim answered as he sat on the back of the couch near her. "What do you think?"

A moment passed where she only eyed him suspiciously, trying to decide if he was telling the truth and what it would mean if he was. "Are you sure you live here?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why? Does it not look like me?" He held out his arms to gesture to the entire room. "If not, then that means I might need to redecorate."

Her reply was cut short when the small man from before knocked on the open door carrying his bag. "Yes, come in." She turned in her seat to look at the new guest then looked back to him. "He's going to stitch you up."

"Yes, ma'am. May I see your arm?" The man hesitated to sit next to her, but was forced when she complied pulling the towel from her arm. He examined her wound carefully before opening his bag. "Only a few stitches and a bandage."

"What about infection?" Anthea asked urgently, causing Jim to wonder. He assumed that she knew little about the medical field, but there was little he knew about her.

"No need to worry. It seems that you've already taken care of disinfecting it." A finger tapped the side of his nose when she tilted her head at him. "I can still smell the vodka."

Her mouth formed a brief 'Oh' then watched as he threaded the needle that would soon be weaving in and out of her skin. Jim was content to stay where he was, but a message on his phone shifted his priorities. A simple 'excuse me' was all he offered as he left the room to enter the foyer.

"Let go of me you filth!" It was the first thing he heard which answered the question of if he would have to shut the doors to the living room.

Sebastian had a man in his grip that was thrashing violently in his attempt to escape, but two other men were restraining him also. He was tall, lanky, nothing that posed a threat. Wiry, dark hairs fell around his face that had been neglected. There was about six days of hair growth on his jaw and dirt around his eyes.

"This is him?" Jim asked still studying the man before him. It was hardly the most hazardous human he had seen in his life, but he had learned not to under estimate the look of a person.

"Yes, sir. Found him lurking around her building." Sebastian answered, jerking the man in one direction as he started to struggle again.

"Doesn't look like much." He stepped closer to him and gestured to one of the other men to make him look up. A painful grip on his hair compelled his head to rise and he looked directly at Jim. "Why did you try to murder her?"

The man only half smiled in reply to the question. His teeth were stained with nicotine. Jim looked at his right hand man who obliged in driving his fist into one of the man's kidneys. He doubled over for a moment before his head was yanked back into an upwards position.

Jim took a breath before speaking again. "This will go a lot smoother if you just talk." The man did not say anything for a long moment, but then his mouth opened. No words came out, instead his eyes shifted to look over Jim's shoulder.

He looked at the man curiously before he felt himself being shoved to one side. Balance soon returned to him and he turned to catch Anthea's fist colliding with the man's jaw. Something close to a proud smile adorned his face as he watched her. If there was anything about her he would never forget, it would be that she could throw a hell of a right hook.

The sniper's mouth opened and closed with a groan before he looked at her and sneered. Jim saw her start to lunge at him, but caught her waist before she could. "Anthea, don't rip out those stitches."

"I want to know why he didn't just kill me in Beirut." Her narrowed eyes never left him which could probably make him combust if she had a strong enough will power.

"Beirut?" He looked between them both as the question drifted between them. The man had stopped struggling and his expression of anger was replaced by a predator looking at its prey. She looked as if she could tear him limb from limb by hand if she had the opportunity.

"Had to make sure we had the right girl." He said smugly, straightening himself.

Fury practically seeped out of her, but she never struggled against him. Her jaw set and Jim watched the wildness in her eyes grow. "Don't hide behind a scope next time. Makes you look weak."

Anthea left when he let his hold on her loosen. The statement had taken him aback. He watched her walk back into the living room, leaving the doors open as he let her words settle into his mind. It was a sudden transition he had not expected from her. Anger was something to be expected, but not the anger that was coming from her. Fear was even on his list of things to expect from her, but it seemed that she had left it back at her flat.

"What do you want us to do with him?" Sebastian asked, breaking his thought process. He closed his eyes to relocate his part of his mind. The criminal needed to reemerge before he said another word. Reputations had to be held up even in the home.

"Take him and question him. I want names by morning." Jim looked at his watch to note the time. "Four hours. Think you can handle that?" He asked Sebastian who simply nodded then dragged the man out of the foyer and toward the back where a less public exit was.

The doctor slipped out of the living room without touching the doors, tapped him on the shoulder to inform him he was leaving and that the stitches would need to be removed in about a month. A professional would not need to be consulted for the removal, but if anything did go wrong, he recommended that someone should return to have a look.

Once the doctor was shown out, Jim looked into the living room and spotted Anthea standing next to a window looking out of it. It made him feel slightly anxious, but he told himself that no one would try to shoot into his home. There were eyes and ears for a two mile radius that were always on alert. No one entered or exited that radius without being spotted. Many people seeking retribution had been apprehended because of his system.

She had her arms wrapped around her waist loosely and her hair had been moved to one side to keep it from getting caught in the medical tape holding the bandage to her arm. An unusual calm atmosphere, spiced with menace, had settled around her and was spreading throughout the room.

It was different for him to be in a room and not have contempt directed at him. He walked to the middle of the room while pulling his coat off and draping it across the back of the couch. "Tell me about Beirut."

"Nothing to tell. You know how snipers work." She did not move from her spot when she spoke, only shrugged her shoulders that caused her to wince softly.

"There's nothing you want to tell me?" Jim inquired further convinced that she might have a clue as to why someone would want her dead.

Anthea looked over her shoulder to give him a glare then turned back to the window. "When is there ever anything that I want to tell you? I just end up telling you regardless, but this time, there's nothing to tell."

"Alright, alright. Let's switch topics. What do you think about the weather?" His response was a frustrated sigh and somewhat of a laugh.

"You're still intolerable and I'm supposed to stay here how long?" At least she still had her humor.

Jim shrugged and moved over to stand behind her. He traced one of her shoulder blades with two fingers and felt her skin react with goose bumps. "I don't know. Haven't quite decided how long I'll want company." The eye roll was apparent even without seeing it. A smirk crossed his face before he kissed the back of her neck. "But you should stay here the rest of the night."

She turned around slowly and tilted her head to the side. "You think so?"

He nodded a few times while he looked at the bandage on her arm. A small amount of blood could be scene underneath the surface. Maybe she had ripped a stitch when she punched that man. He reached to lift it, but she moved away from him. "Let me look."

An unidentifiable look crossed her face before she took a short breath. The tape was eased off of her skin. None of the stitches had been broken, but they had been disturbed. His lack of focus on the rest of the room caused Sebastian to go unnoticed as he entered the room. Anthea was the one to have to draw his attention away from inspecting her. "What is it? I hope you haven't lost him." Even though he was speaking to him, he still kept his eyes on the still fresh wound.

"No, he's being prepped for questioning. I thought you may have further needs for me." Sebastian answered as he watched his boss replace the bandage and smooth down the tape carefully.

"Later, after you've questioned him." Jim replied finally looking at his second in charge. "You can leave."

Sebastian nodded shortly then left without another word.

"Questioning?" She queried before holding up her hand. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know the details."

He chuckled as his arms slid around her waist. "If you wish. I must say, you're reacted quite well to be shot at."

"Oh, Jim. How little you know." She teased as she looked down at herself for a moment then back at him. "I have been shot before. Being shot at is a walk in the park."

Hearing that she had been shot made him take a step back, but still kept a hold on her. "Who shot you?" He asked, feeling his expression darken.

Anthea pressed a finger to his lips with a smile. "Shh. Calm down. He was killed soon after." Her finger dropped and she her hand on his forearm. "We were moving an important figure and I decided to change my position near them. The bullet was intended for them. I just got in the way."

His eyes were searching over her, curious as to where she was shot. The rest of his mind was occupied in searching for any information he had heard about concerning an assassination attempt. There were several that he could recall, but there was no way to know which one without asking her.

"You want to know where?" She asked after a moment to which he answered with a nod. Her hand moved from his arm to lift her shirt to her waist. Just over her hip, a patch of scar tissue gathered. It was lighter than the rest of her skin, like always, and it was hardly even around the edges. The fabric dropped to cover it and he looked back at her face.

"Mycroft took care of him, I expect." Jim stated, wanting to inspect the mark again.

"From what he told me, yes. That person is the reason I don't like snipers. If you're going to kill someone, look them in the eye when you do it." She moved away from him as if to let him soak up what she had told him. It was undoubtedly something he had not thought of to come from her. There was very little about her that hinted at violent tendencies. Her mysterious air was the only thing to clue someone into possible danger, but other than that, she concealed it well.

She had stopped to look at a book on an end table that was set next to couch. "Are you actually reading Othello or do you have it for show?"

In honesty, he liked the character Iago. He had never read it all the way through. "Only referencing to it."

A contented hum came from her as she put the book back in the place she had found it. "You know what I want?"

His interest spiked slightly when he heard the question. "What would that be? Hopefully something fun." Jim walked closer to her, so he could take her wrist gently and pull her to him.

She grinned at him and let her hand slide down his tie. "Oh, it will be." Her lips pressed to the side of his neck and worked up to his earlobe where she nipped a few times.

"Are you teasing me, Anthea?" He asked, slipping a hand under her shirt to slide around to her lower back.

A low, but soft laugh resonated from her throat. "I'm only having fun." Her fingers slipped into his hair at the base of his neck. "But I still want something."

Jim pulled back from her enough to see her. "And?" He watched her expectantly for a moment.

She leaned in close to him, but stopped before her lips made contact with his. "A hot bath and a soft bed."

He rolled his eyes, but let himself smile nonetheless. "I imagined so."

"Did you?" Her eyes flicked down his body quickly then she stepped away waiting patiently for him to lead the way.

"Come on." Jim led her to his bathroom and supplied her with what she would need. He went to leave to give her the privacy he knew she would want, but was stopped when she cleared her throat. "Yes?"

"What about clothes?" Anthea asked, turning on the faucet.

He continued out the door and replied as the door closed. "I'll find you something." Jim walked into this bedroom, opened the closet door, and started searching. It could not be anything too expensive or anything that he would miss. She was still bleeding after all. Soon, a plain white t-shirt caught his eye. He stripped it from the hanger and picked up a pair of pants on his way out of the closet.

When he returned to the bathroom door, he could not hear any running water and assumed she was nestled into the tub of hot water. The image that snuck into the front of his mind nearly made him groan, but he swallowed the impulse and opened the door just enough to lay the clothes on the counter.

"Thank you, Jim." She said as he started to leave again.

He stopped and turned to look in her direction. She had shifted in the tub to rest her harmed arm on the edge of the tub and her chin rest on her forearm so she could look at him. There was something peaceful about the expression that decorated her face that made him linger. "What for?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Pulling me out of the line of a bullet, getting me stitched up, the use of your home, and the clothes. All the usual criminal things." Anthea giggled, moving so that she vanished behind the wall the tub was attached to.

Jim felt himself pause when he started to think about all of the things he had done that night. None of them were in his nature. No one would be treated like she was being treated, not even his own employees. He decided to consider it later. "Take your time."

The retreat was made into his bedroom as her words rolled around in his mind. It bothered him that he had not noticed he was acting this way and wondered who else might have noticed, if they had the brain power to observe it. He collapsed onto his bed and covered his face with his hands. That knotting feeling was returning to his stomach along with the distinct hint of sleeplessness for the night. Those nights had been absent since the time he had first visited her in her flat. Now, he wondered what was making them return.

A soft knock on his door roused him from his thoughts. He sat up on his arms to see Anthea standing in the doorway wearing his clothes. It was probably the most unprofessional look he had seen her in since they first met. "Enjoy your bath without me?"

She shook her head at him and stepped inside his room to look around. "I did, but I was wondering where I could sleep."

"You can sleep in here." Jim suggested with a smirk, looking at the bed. "I assure you, it's quite comfortable."

"Is this your window of opportunity? Women who almost get shot?" She had walked further into the room and was looking at the bed as if she was scrutinizing it.

"Only the ones I save myself." He slid down to the foot of bed, sat up, and patted the spot next him. "Come sit."

Anthea wavered for a moment, but made her way over to the bed and sat next to him. "Now, you can sleep here. I have things to take care of, so you'll be left alone."

"If that is true, I'm still going to be in your bed. It gives off somewhat of an uncertain feeling." She protested turning to look at the rest of the bed behind her.

Jim stood and stepped in front of her. "I can see where you're coming from, but it's up to you. Sleep or don't sleep." She looked up at him as he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

He left her there, closed the bedroom doors, and strolled down the hallway until he reached a room that held a pool table. The sound of the cue ball striking another ball diverted his attention. He pushed the door to open fully and spotted Sebastian lining up to take the next shot.

"Boss." Sebastian acknowledged without looking up. The pool cue made contact with queue ball and pocketed the solid purple four ball.

Jim entered the room and leaned against the wall. The sniper was more than likely unconscious at the moment and it gave Sebastian sometime to take a break. Other than that, he would have never left him alone. "You're curious about her."

"Yeah, and I think we should talk about her." He retorted lining up his next shot again.

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><p><em>Well, there you have it.<em>

_If anyone feels like I'm slipping or even monotonous, do let me know._

_I'm having doubts since my realization. _

_You review, and I'll love you until the end of time._


	12. Chapter 12

A/N - I'm such a terrible person... Why do you people put up with it? I would say I'm sorry, but I don't think it does any good anymore. Well, for those of you that are still reading, here's the next bit. Also, I figured out a way to mesh my two ideas (revenge on Jim, Anthea's history) together without it being complicated. So, I look forward to that. I love you all very much even thought I don't show it very well.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>"Why exactly should we talk about her? She's not your concern." Jim watched the next strike send a ball in corner pocket.<p>

"She isn't, but she's a liability now." Sebastian replied as he studied the table. "It was fine when you were just interested."

"Were? I doubt my interest has slipped." He approached the table, but kept far enough away from touching it.

The other man moved around to an end of the table to obtain a different view. "No, in fact it's grown, but that's not what I'm concerned about." He looked at Jim with a rare serious expression. "I want to know what the deal is. What you're using her for."

Questions similar to that statement had been asked frequently, but only to himself and he still did not know the answer. He was not sure he was using her for anything more than just to indulge in his foreign interest. The fact that she kept his interest was unsettling. It should have dwindled now. The fix of entertainment he scored from her should have started to bore him, but it had not. Even more concerning was that he was starting to do things out of character just for her. If it was one of his selfish reasons, it would not bother him.

"How about you guess and I'll tell you if you're right." Jim instructed as he went to pick up the eight ball. It slipped passed his hand when the queue ball struck it. He looked at Sebastian who had stiffened his posture.

"This conversation isn't one of your games, Jim." The other man rested the cue against the railing of the table. "Are you using her for some partly constructed plan?"

"There isn't a plan." Jim answered plainly looking down at the green felt.

"For her boss then? Her secrets?" Sebastian suggested moving to stand on the opposite of the table across from his employer.

Jim's head snapped up as the last syllable was in line with the rest of the sentence and let the volume in his voice rise so it would echo softly. "I'm not using her for her position." He gripped the edge of the table letting the slight anger diminish. "I told you that in the beginning."

"Then what? What exactly is so important about her that you brought her here of all places?" Sebastian did not stop there. "So she was shot at. Big deal. She works for the top employer of making people vanish where they stand. She doesn't need your protection if that's what you're giving her. And…"

He was cut off as Jim reached across the table, gripped the collar of his shirt, and yanked him forward. "I'm protecting her for me you idiot." Jim hissed, holding them there for a moment the let him go as he stalked away from the table running his hands through his hair.

His response had surprised him even if it was a premeditated answer. It meant that whatever was growing inside him was getting stronger. He could hide all of it before, pretend that it was the thrill of the infatuation, but it had buried itself deep in his veins.

Sebastian straightened his shirt as he spoke. "Worse than I thought then." He watched Jim carefully wondering if he would respond, but he only paced in a small area. "Is it possible that you care for her? It's not uncommon."

Jim stopped mid step and turned his head a little to look at his companion. At first he could only swallow heavily. The notion of him caring about someone caused him to feel physically ill. As the thought lingered and settled somewhere in his mind he started to laugh. How could he care about someone? Why would he allow himself to feel such a crippling thing? It was a preposterous idea that he almost choked on. His laughter ceased soon and the humor was replaced with doubt. "Why should I care?"

"Then why take care _of_ her?" Sebastian asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched his boss place his hands on the pool table and then let them take his weight. His head hung as he appeared to take a deep breath.

"I don't know." Jim's voice was low. He was starting to question his actions over the past month.

"You need to figure it out then. Don't think it won't start affecting all of your work. I'd hate to have to seek a job from one of your competitors." Sebastian picked up the cue and placed it on the rack that held the rest.

Jim only shook his head. "You wouldn't leave. No one else can afford you."

"Figure it out before others start assuming you have a soft spot." He had reached the door, but turned to his boss. "You should see the way you look at her. It's dangerous for all of us."

"Go do your job." Jim declared angrily as he pushed passed Sebastian. "You have an hour and forty-five minutes left." He unconsciously moved down the hallway in the direction of his bedroom with the new questions that had been firmly planted in his mind.

Before he reached the door he leaned against the wall. One way or another he would have to extract this odd feeling from himself and return to his usual self. In order to do that he would have to get rid of her. That made him feel uneasy in a very different way. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he did not want to get rid of her. That would mean taking away his entertainment. His head banged against the wall behind him as the internal argument cluttered his mind. He decided to think more on the subject when he had his answers from the sniper.

Jim pulled himself back together before he entered his room. The curtains had been closed to shield out the morning light that would be arriving soon. Only a dim lamp on the bedside table and the light from the hallway gave the room any kind of illumination. Other than the curtains and lamp, nothing had been touched. The figure lying on the side of his bed closer to the lamp stirred for a moment then settled again after the blankets had been drawn up over their head.

He slipped inside the room and closed the door behind him to block the light. A rather contented, but soft sigh came from the bed once the door clicked into place. It was the additional light that had disturbed his guest, but that was not going to be the only thing disturbing her rest. Quietly, he slipped off his shoes to eliminate any other sound, made his way over the vacant part of the bed, and crawled onto it to loom over her side. She had refrained from lying on her injured arm as he expected. The outline of the bandage could be seen through his shirt that she was wearing. As he succumbed to the urge to glide his fingertips over it, she stirred again and made a sort of frustrated sound. "I thought you were going to let me sleep."

"You're not asleep, so I can bother you." Jim replied, moving away from her only to lie comfortably on his side. "I see you couldn't resist my bed."

"It's rather enticing with its feather down pillows." She had rolled onto her back and pushed the blankets away from her. Her head turned to the side so she could see him. "Nothing to do with it being yours."

He had watched the shadows move over her face as she changed her position. The light fell over her in an intimate way to contrast with the shadows that curved and slanted to bring out the darker side of her that had an appearance earlier. "That hurts, Anthea. It really does." It was a feigned hurt that he allowed to leak out in his voice, but it rewarded him with a slight smirk.

"And why does it hurt you?" She asked as she turned more toward him making sure to keep her sore arm from being trapped between her and the bed.

Jim reached out and grazed the back of his fingers along her jawline. He watched as she resisted closing her eyes in response to his touch at first, but she yielded with a hint of a smile. She would have looked peaceful if it was not for shadows darkening half of her face. It reminded him of the wildness he had seen in her eyes earlier and began to wonder if it was ever allowed to come out and play.

During his thoughts, he had absent mindedly let his hand slip into her hair and allowed himself to lean in closer to her. Her breathes had become shallow and he could see her quickened pulse on her neck. He grinned as he thought that he was obligated to increase the intensity of her reaction and would take pleasure from it.

His lips brushed against hers before he nipped at her bottom lip gently then with force to cause a twinge of pain. The endorphins would rush through her faster that way and she did not seem to mind. In fact, she had reached out, grabbed onto his jacket, and was pulling him closer to her. Before he could respond to her insisting grasp, she seized his mouth with her own slipping her tongue between his lips and gained control as she explored. It took him off guard for a moment and he knew that Anthea could tell when he felt her smiling. The competitor in him took over as he rolled her onto her back and rested part of his weight on her as he disengaged his lips from hers and started trailing kisses down her neck.

Jim could hear her breathing becoming more ragged when he slipped a hand under her shirt to lift it. He could feel his jacket loosen around him as she undid the buttons then slipped her hands into the shoulders to push it off. It was half way down his arms before he slipped it off completely and carefully let it drop to the floor. He latched onto the spot above her collar bone that he had marked last time. A stifled moan reached his ears as he felt her arch into him. The small victory was short lived as he was forced to detach from her only to have her kiss him hard enough that bruises had a fair chance of forming. She bit into his lip and tugged harshly as she undid his tie, slid it out from under his shirt collar, and let it drop near the discarded jacket.

Anthea had unbuttoned half of his shirt when he stopped her. When he pulled away from her she had a confused, but deliciously flushed expression. "So hasty." He breathed through his own uneven breathing.

She only smiled slyly at him as she leaned up and placed soft kisses along his jawline. His eyes closed and he let himself relish in the gentleness, but that was taken away from him as soon as he felt her bite into the side of his neck. A slight gasp escaped from him before a low growl emanated from his throat. The pleasure that flooded through him from that bite had clouded his mind. It had started to falter off, but she had picked another spot to grace with her mouth. He felt the sting just under his jaw which caused his muscles to give for a brief moment. She had caught him when he weakened and was lowering herself back onto the bed pulling him with her. His mind, which was more than willing to follow her, had almost entirely shut off. Another sharp pain from the same spot caused a throaty moan to slip out of his grasp. She started to nip and suck at the spot intent on marking him just as he had done her. The heat that had reached the surface of his skin was transforming into an intense desire.

A cloud of lust had descended over him and it only lifted briefly when he felt something brush against his abdomen. It took him a moment to realize that she had unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and had slipped her hands under the fabric. She reached around his back and dragged a nail down the length of his spine causing his hips to roll into hers involuntarily. The friction had obviously surprised her when she let go of his neck with a gasp and let her head lull back against the pillow. A drawn out moan that had a hint of frustration behind it came from her before she bit into her lip and looked up at him. Her pupils had blown to cover any color in her eyes and a glaze of longing covered them. He was about to close the distance between them again when the sound of his phone halted him.

Anthea had let out a grumble of frustration as she let go of him. "Not fair."

Jim chucked and buried his face in the side of her neck to bite softly at her flesh. She grasped his hips as she arched into him. "Stop teasing and answer your phone before I throw it out a window."

He grinned leaving her neck and sliding down her body. The tail of her shirt hands rode up during their activities. It let part of her lower torso peak out from under it including the scar he had seen before. He let his thumb glide over it briefly then bent to place lighter than air kisses along the exposed skin. She whimpered and squirmed under him before lifting his chin to stop him. "I said stop teasing." Her voice was husky which made him smirk up at her.

"Soon. Very soon." Jim said, removing himself from her and sliding his phone from his pocket. It was Sebastian. He must have got the answers that he was instructed to extract from the sniper. The call was answered with a swipe of his thumb. "What do you have for me?"

"I got an answer, but it's not exactly what you're looking for." Sebastian answered talking above a loud, painful groan in the background.

He moved to rest his back against the headboard as Sebastian talked. "Well, what is it? My patience is thin." His eyes moved to Anthea who had barely moved and was watching him. The hunger had almost left her eyes. It was being replaced with curiosity. He found that he preferred to see the hunger and let his free hand brush over the faint mark on her neck. She closed her eyes, swallowed heavily, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"If he's going to talk, he wants to talk to you. It's the only demand he's made." Sebastian explained simply as the groaning sound faded.

"Is that so?" Jim nearly laughed when she had opened her eyes again. She was glaring at him as if she were going to kill him. He kept teasing the spot as she made no movement to stop him.

"Yep, it's either he talks to you or nothing." Sebastian answered casually.

He considered the demand for a moment. "Alright, I'll be there soon." The phone call ended with one touch and he slid the phone back into his pocket.

"What was that?" Anthea asked curiously, sitting up using her good arm for support and turning toward him.

"Your sniper wants to talk to me." Jim slouched against the headboard. "It's tiring being wanted all the time." He looked over at her who had the expression of the physical form of the word 'really' with sarcasm. "Don't try arguing." His voice sang to her as he touched the end of her nose.

She glared at him as he rose from the bed and started to dress himself again. He could feel her eyes move up along his shirt as he buttoned it. The sound of sheets rustling caused him to look up and find her moving toward him with his tie and jacket in hand. She let the jacket rest on the bed as she stood then draped the thin fabric around his neck and started to tie it. "Aren't you helpful?"

Anthea smiled a little as she slipped part of the tie through a loop. "I was the one who nearly undressed you, so I figured I better dress you." The knot tightened gently around his throat as she spoke.

"You did, didn't you?" Jim asked with a contented hum. His jacket was lifted from the bed and held open for him. Who was he to turn down offer? Both of his arms slipped into the sleeves and the jacket slipped effortlessly back into place. He felt her hands slid down his back in search for any dust or dirt that might have gathered on it. The feeling of her nail running down his back came back to him suddenly and he had to take a deep breath to combat it.

"There. All that's missing is the shoes and you can get them yourself." She had circled to stand in front of him and checked the front of the jacket for any debris.

"You don't want to finish the job?" He asked tilting his head at her as she looked over him.

Anthea shook her head. "I only put back on you what I took off. Everything else is for you." She smoothed down his tie before buttoning his jacket closed.

Jim watched her for a moment then lifted her chin slightly and pressed his lips to hers gently. His kiss was returned in a lazy manner that made him smile a little. He pulled away after sealing the kiss with peck and left without another word, picking up his shoes along the way.

Sebastian was waiting for him at the opposite side of his home. He was leaning on a steel door that held the interrogation room. There was a toothpick between his teeth. A habit he had picked up after he completed a job and could not smoke. Jim had nearly taken his head off when he lit a cigarette in his home.

"He's still conscious?" He asked the blonde man once he was close enough.

"Yeah, restrained as well." Sebastian replied shrugging his shoulders.

Jim nodded. "I want you to keep an eye on her."

Sebastian hesitated at first, but nodded and reached behind himself and pulled the weighty handle to open the door. He had started to push on the door when he stopped and peered at his boss.

"What?" Jim asked half glaring at the other man mostly because of impatience.

An amused expression crossed Sebastian's face. "Did I interrupt something?"

That was when Jim remembered what Anthea had done. He made a mental note to repay her kindness. "Yes, you did. Now, the door."

Sebastian pushed the door open enough for his boss to slip through and let his amused expression fade from his face.

Inside was nothing more than a man in a chair restrained with leather from his shoulders down to his feet. The only thing he could move without strain was his head. There were a few overhead lights that had been kept on. Usually the room was nearly blindingly bright, but since Jim was making an appearance the circuit had been turned off.

He stood next to the man who had his head hung somewhat to one side. There were trace amounts of blood around him, but no more than that. It was not Sebastian's style to create a large mess when it was not called for. The man had been sweating profusely. Anyone could tell by the smell that was filling the room.

Jim crouched down to look at the man's face. Barely any damage from what the light could show, but he was sure that there would be more than a few black bruises and cuts. "You wanted to speak to me?"

The man jerked a little when he spoke and looked around for the person speaking. His eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. "You're the boss, right?"

"Don't ask stupid questions." He replied feeling bored with the conversation already. "Why did you try to murder her?" It felt like he had asked that question more times than necessary.

The sniper rolled his head so it was resting in the correct position. There were dark bruises forming on both sides of his face along with singe marks. Sebastian had used electricity again. He rolled his tongue around his mouth as if to rearrange it. "Orders."

At least he was getting somewhere fast and not wondering around in circles. "Orders from whom?"

"My boss." The man answered smugly. His eyes had finally focused and had found the man he was speaking to.

"I'm looking for a name here." Jim said, remaining in his position.

He shrugged the best he could. "Afraid I don't know names. Don't even know the name of my boss's boss." His eyes had flicked away from him for a moment.

Jim's jaw tightened when he saw it. "Lying is not a good thing here. Which name are you keeping from me?" No criminal could keep their name quiet from the people they worked for. Ego always won out in the end.

"I gave you the why, I don't need to give you anything else." The sniper spat in reply then relaxed to the best of his ability.

He stood from his crouched position and moved to stand behind the other man. "You're wrong. If you don't give me what I want, I'll let you live, but you will live without a few delicate appendages." The man stiffened visibly. Jim leaned in close to him. "And I'll take as many as I like."

Fear started to show through the faux rugged exterior. His eyes moved around the part of the room he could see. The reality was starting to sink into his uneducated mind. People in this business were not trained the way they should be anymore.

"Now, shall I get my colleague back in here or are you willing to cooperate?" Jim stood in front of the man now and watched him struggle with himself. He was loyal to whomever he worked for, but he was still fearful of the threats that were being laid out before him.

"Hart." The word came out in barely above a whisper, but he had to make sure.

"I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that. Do you want me to start with your heart?" Jim asked leaning over to be eye level with the man.

"Hart! Hart is the man's name!" The sniper shouted back voice filled with nervousness.

"And the name belongs to whom?" He insisted, stepping closer so that he could look the man in the eye.

"My boss's boss." His voice quivered as the realization hit him. He had given up information on his employer. Many did not last long after they dropped the name of who paid them.

Jim gave him a half smile as she straightened. "Good boy." He walked to the door and opened it only to be stopped by the sniper's voice.

"You have to keep me safe. They'll kill me if they find out." He was begging.

"Don't play with the big kids next time. If there is a next time." Jim added as he left the man yelling and thrashing around in his seat. He shut the door behind him and pulled out his phone to speak to his connection that could find anyone dead or alive.

_**MEANWHILE**_

Anthea had given up on trying to sleep and opted for wandering around the house after locating a robe that she could wrap herself in. Once she had entered the hallway, there were several doors on each side that she could choose from. The one closest to her she knew to be the bathroom. After trying to figure out a way to explore the home in a logical manner she decided to start with the room that did not have a door, but a doorway.

It turned out to be the kitchen. A large room lengthwise and widthwise. Black granite with flecks of amber represented counter tops that held dark wooden cabinets beneath them. The bar in the middle of the room was topped with the same granite. The fridge was nearly as dark as the counters with a shine that would put freshly polished silver to shame. One side of the bar was completely filled with several kinds of liquor and wine. She picked up a few bottles wondering what Jim would keep for his pleasure of drinking. The ones she had looked at were unknown to her. Her tastes in alcohol were diverse from her travels, but she did not recognize the names. She thought about opening one to taste it, but a sound from the adjoining room changed her mind.

At first she thought it might have been Jim, but it seemed that some of his employees had access to his home, so she prepared herself. Her head craned around the door frame and discovered a small, compared to the rest of the rooms, sitting room. There was a man sitting on a couch facing the door way she was leaning out of. She recognized him as one of the men that had restrained the sniper. The most notable characteristics were his blonde hair and the fact that he was cleaning one of the five guns that were resting on the coffee table in front of him. He looked up from his work to regard her with an inquisitive expression. "If you're going to hit me, stay away from my nose."

Anthea blinked at him in confusion, but remembered when she had punched the sniper. "Oh." She stepped into the room so she would not have to keeping leaning. "I'm not going to hit you."

"That's a relief. My charm is nothing without my looks." The man said, setting the cleaned gun back on the table with a smirk. "So, you're the girl."

"Does everyone in this….establishment know who I am?" There was a comfortable looking, padded, wooden chair near the table. She was not sure if she would be welcomed near him, but she did not feel like standing for the duration of the conversation.

"Only privileged ones." He picked up the next gun and started disassembling it to clean thoroughly. "Namely me."

Anthea watched him work methodically and gingerly at taking care of the gun. "You're Sebastian then. I've read over your file."

"I'm sure you have. Anything particularly interesting?" Sebastian asked looking up from his work momentarily to eye her.

"Nothing you don't already know." The other untouched guns caught her eye and she held out her hand towards him. "Give one here."

Sebastian paused to give her a strange look and then looked at the guns on the table. "You want a gun?" He gestured to the guns on the table with a piece of the gun he was currently working on.

"Yes." She insisted, stretching her arm to full length. "I do know how to clean a gun."

"Do you? Is it a hobby?" He lifted one of the unclean guns from the table, handed it to her with the barrel facing him, and laid it in her open palm.

Her hand closed around the grip when it made contact with her hand. "Well, I figured if I knew how to shoot one and own one, I should learn how to care for one." She spoke as she started to disassemble it. Once it was in pieces, she reached over to pick up one the spare cleaning materials.

Sebastian smiled at her response as he continued working on his gun. "You are as possibly as interesting as you are stunning."

"Save the compliments." Anthea looked at the clip that was filled with bullets. "So, what are you doing here instead of with the sniper?"

"Jim asked me to look after you." He had put the gun back together and was reaching for the next. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's still a bit on edge."

"What, why?" She had nearly dropped the piece in her hand when he had disclosed that information. The blood was running to her face and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Sebastian had watched her fumbles and had raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Flustered?"

A nervous expression was all that she could offer him for an answer. The more important question that she was presently asking herself was why she was flustered. Then again, why did she always become excited when he came around or why did her breath catch every time his name was mentioned. Her thoughts had blocked out Sebastian speaking again.

"….then again, whatever is happening to you must be happening to him." He was speaking to his lap as he concentrated on a specific part of the gun.

Anthea blinked at him in confusion and let the pieces rest in her lap. "What do mean?"

"When I visited you two last night, he was looking at your wound. I've never seen him focus on something that intently unless he was working on a new plan." Sebastian had moved his gaze back to her. "What do you think?"

She felt her throat start to close up as she pondered his words and had to swallow to force it open again. "What does it matter what I think?"

"Well, it's not so much that I care what you think on the matter, but more of what your answer is." He placed the gun back on the table then slouched against the cushions of the couch, folding his hands behind his head to cradle it.

"Why does my answer interest you?" She had remembered the pieces in her lap and started to work on them to distract herself.

"If he's not using you for something then you must be using him." His shoulders shrugged in a relaxed manner as he watched her clean the gun.

Anthea nearly laughed out loud. "Why would I use him? And even more importantly how could I without being found out?"

Sebastian was silent for a moment and she started to think that he was not going to answer her questions. "Anything to catch the top criminal in the world. As far as how you would do it, well, you do have the capabilities and….assets to make your real intentions unknown."

She could nearly feel his eyes trying to bore through the robe she was wearing. "Deception is not quite that easy even if I did have some sort of plan to deceive him. The risk of that far outweighs the reward, Mr. Moran." Her hands worked quickly to clean the rest of the gun as she continued. "As far as my intentions are concerned, I don't even know. My intentions conflict with my moral compass along with common sense and I hate it. I hate not knowing why things are the way they are when I know I have complete control of understanding, but this…. This is more complicated than trying to set up dinner party's seating chart with ten ambassadors that can't stand one another on top of trying to smoke out the latest terrorist threat with nothing but an outdated Blackberry. That is simple compared to this." The clip was forcefully slipped into place as she finished her rant. She had not realized that she had started to put the gun back together or that there was someone standing in her peripheral vision.

"It does seem confusing, doesn't it?" Jim's voice nearly made her faint from embarrassment, but she only set the gun on the table calmly.

"Everything alright?" Sebastian asked looking up at his boss. Jim must have given some gesture that things were under control because the blonde man stood from his seat. "I'll be in touch. And thanks for cleaning my gun. Feel free to anytime." Sebastian added and left with a nod in his boss's direction.

Anthea took a deep breath to settle nausea that had settled in the bottom of her stomach. Neither of them had spoken about what they thought about the arrangement they had and she had broken that barrier by accidentally confiding in a dishonorably discharged sniper that worked for the man that had probably heard more than enough.

Despite the embarrassment, she stood and turned to Jim. "Did you have fun with the sniper?" It was the only thing she could think of to change the subject.

"Not as entertaining as I would have liked." Jim looked her over with a raised eyebrow. "You do realize that you're wearing my robe."

She looked down at herself then back at him. "So? I'm already wearing your clothes."

His head nodded to one side when he considered it. "That's true." As he moved to stand next to her, he lifted her uninjured arm, and hooked it around his. "You should lie back down. Easier to keep an eye on you when you stay in one room." He walked her out of the room and through the kitchen.

"You weren't the one keeping an eye on me though, so that's your fault." They had stopped in the middle of the hallway near the bedroom.

"Don't get into particulars." Jim warned with a side glance at her as he urged her toward the bedroom door. "We are going to get you relaxed and take your mind off of those pesky thoughts."

Anthea stood with her back to one of the double doors. "How exactly are you going to do that?" The adrenaline had been sparked and was already starting to cause her heart to speed up. Her recent thoughts she had told Sebastian had already fluttered away, replaced by the supposed plan to relax and distract her.

"We're going to finish what we started." Jim replied, leaning in close to her as his arm slid around her back to open the door behind her. He let his parted lips graze along her jawline until he reached her ear. "After you."

His voice was low and caused her already quickened pulse to escalate rapidly. She could almost feel her pupils dilate with excitement when the door behind her swung away. He had pulled away from her enough so that he was less than an inch from her face. A sinister grin had graced his lips that made her breath catch in her throat. It was the metaphorical last straw for her. She took ahold of the lapels of his jacket and pulled them into the room towards the bed. He barely had time to kick the door shut behind him.

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><p><em>And that's the end for now. I won't promise a date because even I don't know.<em>

_I still love all of you very much!_


	13. Chapter 13

A/N - Hello, again! So, here's the next little bit. I decided to give you a look into 'home life' or whatever you want to call it. It's not nearly as long or eventful as I would like to have it, but if I tried that, it would take me a month to update and I know the majority of you hate me for my spacey updates. So, sorry. Semester is almost over, so there will be some free time soon. Also, I'm starting to feel like I'm running out of steam here, but that could just be from school. And possibly this new medication. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Anthea awoke with a quiet yawn then snuggled around a soft pillow. Her eyes did not open immediately because she wanted to savor the comfort and warmth. Even though she could not remember clearly where she was, she knew that she was somewhere safe, so there was no need to worry. She considered falling back into sleep, but a movement beside her caused her tense. That is when the memories came back to her; the sniper, the house, Sebastian, and who was lying in the bed next to her.<p>

Once she readied herself to turn and look, a sound came from somewhere farther than the bed. She realized that it was phone going off. There was another slow movement next to her, but an idea occurred to her. "Don't answer the phone."

The movement stopped and she could nearly feel the alarmed expression directed at her. "Don't? What happened to throwing it out the window?"

She turned over making sure to take the sheet with her. Things may have happened a few hours before, but that did not mean she would not keep her modesty. "After the last time, I'm making a rule."

"You're making a rule? In my house?" Jim had propped himself up on one arm and was turned toward her. He had let the blanket that had migrated to his side slip down to the lower part of his waist and left his chest exposed. His hair was disheveled, but still somehow looked presentable.

Anthea had almost turned onto her side when a twinge reminded her that there were still stitches in her arm. She settled for lying on her back. "Yes, I am. No phones while we both occupy this bed."

He attempted to look puzzled, but the arrogant smile betrayed him. No doubt he simply let it. "You plan on occupying my bed again?"

"Like you mind." She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "No phones."

"It could be something important." Jim whined tilting his head at her.

Her head shook determinedly. "Don't care."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, but she could see the humor behind him regardless. "Could be something about the person after you."

She considered that statement for a quick moment, but stuck to her commitment. "No phones."

He sighed and let his eyes closed as he appeared to consider her rule. "As determined as you sound about that particular rule, I'm afraid I can't obey it." His body had already started to turn to pick up his phone that had sounded an alert.

Anthea only grinned as she started to sit up. Her phone was resting on the end table that was near her. "So, I guess you won't mind if I check in with my own business." She started to reach for it with her damaged arm, but felt a hand grasp her elbow and pull her back. Unlike the force she had expected him; he only used as much strength he needed to gain her attention. It was next to nothing.

"No, I don't think so." Jim had pulled her arm to rest back on the bed and moved closer to her.

"So, do we have an agreement?" She raised an eyebrow at him to emphasize the question. He twisted his mouth in thought as he looked over her face. There did not appear to be anything behind whatever he was observing, but just looking to look. Taking in whatever attributes without judgment or comment. His only response was quick smile before he grasped the blanket draped over him and slid off the side of the bed to seat himself on the floor leaning against the mattress. He retrieved his phone from the end table and started going through the messages.

Anthea half crawled to lay across the bed on her stomach. "What are you doing?" She positioned herself so she loomed over his shoulder, but took no interest with whatever was on the phone screen.

"You said occupy. Nothing about being near." Jim replied simply as he flicked through the text messages.

She could only roll her eyes at the loop hole, but was not going to alter the rule. Her chin dropped to the edge of the bed to rest there. It took her moment to realize he taken the blanket with him to the floor that was presently resting across his lap. She was slightly dissatisfied with it being there, but she was curious. "Why did the blanket have to come with you?"

Without missing a beat or even stopping to come up with an answer he answered as he replied to a message. "It's a bit nippy."

Later in the day Jim had decided he wanted something suitable to eat instead of a quick meal. He had chosen to steam a few vegetables and a fruit with some shrimp dipped in butter sauce. There was not much else to do for the day. They had sent the sniper out into the world to fend for his self. The idea of tacking twenty quid to his collar was considered, but it seemed too generous.

Anthea had decided to sleep a few more hours even at his several attempts to keep her awake. She had finally threatened to put a tiny drop of ink on one of his suits if he did not leave her alone. It was then that he decided to let her have some sleep if it would make her more agreeable.

The shrimp was seasoned and baking in the oven at a low temperature. Vegetables were cut and starting to steam. He picked out a fresh tomato from a batch he had in the bottom of the refrigerator and cut it in half with a larger than necessary knife. There was never any reason to learn how to do things properly as long as what he did worked. Don't fix what is not broken. The knife chopped through one half of the tomato to make four separate slices. He lined them up and sliced through them again in a different direction.

"You know that you're doing that wrong." Anthea's voice came from the doorway where she leaned with her arms crossed over her chest. She had dressed herself back into his clothes again.

"Who cares if it's wrong as long as it works." Jim popped a piece of tomato in his mouth as he started to slice into the other half.

She had moved to stand across from him on the other side of the bar. Her hands rested on the counter as she judged his slicing methods. "Let me do it."

He raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled his attention away from the fruit. "No, I think I've got it." The attention was returned to the knife as it sliced again.

"Then let me at least teach you how to do it right." She made to reach for one of the pieces, but he lightly smacked her hand away. "Hey!"

"Not a word out of you. When you cook you can do it your way." Jim replied having the vague notion that he probably sounded like a parent.

"Give me the knife, James." Anthea demanded going for the knife, but he held it just out of her reach.

He smiled at her frustrated expression. "Oh, it's not Jim anymore?" A chuckle was forming somewhere in his chest, but it was soon snuffed when he saw her snatch all of the tomato pieces away. "Give them back."

She only shook her head making her hair swish sharply from one side to the other. "Nope, if you can't do it right, no tomatoes."

His expression turned hard as he leaned across the bar holding the knife against the bar. "Give me the tomatoes."

Her own expression mirrored his as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Give me the knife."

At this moment Sebastian walked into the kitchen, but stopped once he crossed the threshold. He surveyed the two opposing forces and decided no one was in any danger of being seriously hurt. His throat cleared to try to gain their attention, but neither of them flinched. "Did I miss something? You two look like you're about ready to kill each other."

Anthea was the first to break eye contact and turned to recognize the new presence in the room. "Hello, Mr. Moran. Everything's fine."

"She stole my tomatoes." Jim half whined as he straightened himself.

"You were doing it wrong." Anthea replied only looking at him from the corner of her eye. Her arm protected the fruit from being repossessed.

Sebastian blinked at the odd scene before him. In all the years he had come and gone out of this house, he never saw anything remotely close to this and never thought he would. It was remarkably domestic. "Just give him the tomatoes, Anthea. It'll save us all a lot of trouble. And call me Sebastian." He took a seat at the bar a few spots down from where she was. "And Jim, you're shrimp is about to be ruined… again." A few weeks ago, Jim had forgotten he had started cooking and the baked shrimp turned into something like charcoal mush.

Jim cursed under his breath and fled to the oven leaving the knife behind on the bar. Anthea had decided not to listen. She stole the knife to her side of the bar and started chopping the tomato slices the right way. When Jim had rescued the shrimp, he moved them onto a plate that was waiting near the oven. He had just turned around when he realized his mistake of leaving the knife. "Anthea…"

"I'm almost done. You can wait ten seconds." She retorted sliding the knife through the tomato with a practiced hand.

"You two really are going to kill each other." Sebastian murmured as he watched them.

Anthea finished with the tomato and returned it to Jim along with the knife. "There, all done." She smiled at him before speaking again. "When am I going home?"

Jim eyed the fruit, but still ate a piece after a moment of consideration. Her question reached him another minute later. "Who said you were going home?"

Her eyes widened then blinked rapidly as she processed his response. "Why wouldn't I be going home?"

Jim felt that he had an answer, but did not want to say it out loud. That would be admitting he was worried about her wellbeing. He was not ready for that realization yet.

Sebastian noticed the hesitation and decided to answer for him instead of giving Anthea the opportunity to catch on. "It's not safe there or with your boss either, so don't fall back on that plan." He turned around in his seat to rest his back against the bar. "If they know where you live, they know where you work. Basic stuff."

Anthea had turned to him when he answered, but was now looking at the floor considering what he said. "Oh." The more she thought about it the more she realized that he was right. They had followed her all the way to Lebanon while she was with Mycroft and under his protection. What would stop them from doing something to her while she was at work? Nothing.

She might not be able to go home and stay there, but there was something she wanted. "Fine, since I assume that I'll be staying here, I want to go home to get clothes." Her body had turned back to Jim so that it was clear who the demand was directed at.

Jim considered it for a long moment before nodding. "Take Sebastian with you."

Any other time she would have questioned him, but she was going to take what she could get. She smiled sweetly at him as she turned to walk out the door. "Thank you, Jim." As she walked towards the doorway, her hand grabbed at Sebastian's jacket and pulled him along. "Come on, Sebastian. I know you don't want to, but the faster we do this the faster it's over."

"Not really my style, love, but if you're up for it…." Sebastian caught a threatening glare from Jim and he held up his hands. "Just teasing, boss." With only those words, they were out of the kitchen and left Jim to enjoy his meal.

After a very long conversation that ultimately morphed into an argument that night, Anthea finally convinced Jim to let her go to work. He had mumbled something about conditions, but she decided not to inquire about them. She had texted Mycroft letting him know that she was fine and that there was no need to worry then switched off her phone, to avoid being bothered by the incessant beeping that was sure to come from it.

A few days passed without any comment from Mycroft on where she had been, what she was doing, where she went every night. He knew she did not go home, but was not entirely sure where she went. She seemed to fade off the radar each time.

The curiosity was starting to get the better of him along with the concern. When he noticed that she had clutched her arm when someone accidently bumped into her, he started to ask if something was wrong, but she cut him off quickly insisting it was a bruise from running into a doorframe.

Mycroft decided to finally confront her about it instead of allowing her the time it would take for her to come to him. He called her into his office during the early in the afternoon on the fifth day of her strange behavior. She walked in a moment later with her phone in her hand and took her usual seat. "Anthea, is there something I should know about?"

Her eyes flicked from her phone to her boss then back again as she finished an email. "Not that I'm aware of, sir."

His eyes started to narrow at her, but he reminded himself to be patient. As patient as possible. "I have reason to believe there is. There's something going on and I should know what."

Anthea placed her phone in her lap and looked at her employer. She saw that she would not be able to fib her way out of this one and there was not a way to divert his attention. "All I can tell you is that I'm safe."

"Can or want to tell me?" He asked sternly as he leaned forward in his chair slightly. The question only drifted between them as he waited for answer, but he had started to think that he would not be getting one. "We were going to have you relocated somewhere safe, but then your mind changed."

"Yes, I know, but I did relocate myself somewhere safe." Granted it probably was not the best thing to say, but it slipped out before she could do anything about it.

"Really? Is it safer there, wherever there is, than where I would have placed you?" His voice took on a tone he had ever only used with people that challenged or disobeyed his orders or with Sherlock.

Anthea felt her anger flare instantly. She knew this might happen one day. Her judgment would be considered faulty because of her situation with Jim, but it would only be considered faulty by anyone who did not know the details. Of course no matter how much reasoning she tried, the anger still emerged. "I was shot at, Mycroft. In my home! I did what I thought was best for me and it turned out to be the best option."

He only stared at her for a moment with a slight look of surprise betraying the rest of his dissatisfaction. After a rather tense moment, he cleared his throat and continued with the conversation. "You should have come to me, Anthea. You know I would have protected you."

"I'm still protected." She caught the unconvinced flicker across his expression. "They caught him. The guy that tried to kill me. Turns out it was the same guy from Beirut."

Mycroft took a moment as he sorted through the past month. Soon, he remembered their trip there and her concern about a man she had pointed out to him. "Did they find out why?"

Anthea was almost surprised by his question, but she knew he was only concerned about the information. "No, I just know they caught him and interrogated him."

He nodded, staring at his desk with a thoughtful expression. Another moment passed by before he looked at her again. "I still want you relocated."

Her jaw tightened along with the rest of her body. "There's no need to."

"It does not matter if there's a need to, which there is. I still want you relocated." His voice rose in volume only enough to intimidate her, but her intimidation levels had grown over the past months.

She shook her head slowly. "No, you just can't tolerate that you can't keep an eye on me right now." Unconscious to her action she stood and placed herself in front of his desk to look down at him. "I'm staying where I am. You can either keep me employed and deal with the change, or fire me and look for a new personal assistant. Your choice." With nothing else to say to him, she turned on her heel and walked to the door, opened it, and proceeded through it even when he called for her.

Anthea stormed through the front door feeling like she could very well have steam coming out of ears if it were possible. She made for the kitchen without even thinking and hoped that no one would get in her way. Unfortunately, Sebastian had just stepped out of one of the rooms and walked into her. A very loud and very unhappy sound came from her as she attempted to shove him out of the way, but his size was making it difficult. Somehow she untangled herself from the situation hearing bits and pieces of apologies and questions directed at her behavior.

Ignoring them, she made it to the kitchen and plucked the first bottle of brandy she laid eyes on then carried it with her to the bathroom without taking noticed of one much disheveled sniper and one very confused criminal. When the door had been firmly closed, she ran the bath water and unsealed the brandy to take a swig of it from the bottle as she waited for the tub to fill up.

Outside the two men stared at the forcefully shut door for a moment before Jim spoke. "What was…that?" He had been in his office when he heard the commotion going on between Anthea and Sebastian.

"She appears to be upset." Sebastian answered straightening his clothes a little before starting back down the hallway.

Jim only blinked with a slight hesitation before he followed the other man. "What do we do?"

"We? No, boss. You." Sebastian dug his hand in his jacket pocket to bring out a pack of cigarettes. "She's your guest. Not mine."

"Like I know what to do with upset women, Seb." Jim pointed out. "Not to mention whatever that was looked scary."

Sebastian laughed as he placed an unlit cigarette between his lips. "Oh, yes. An angry woman is a complete new species. Must tread lightly." He fiddled with a lighter before looking at his boss again. "Try chocolate. I hear that they respond well to sweets."

"That's it?" Jim whined as Sebastian opened the back door to the area where he was allowed to smoke. The door shut behind the other man, but not before he gave his boss an innocent shrug.

He was starting to sense that he was going to have to accommodate the differences he had generously let into his home. If he wanted to keep her here without locking her up, he needed to adjust as much as possible. Only as much as he would allow himself. No need to turn his entire world on its other end just because he had a new house guest.

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><p><em>It is short, I know, but I did warn you.<em>

_I hope you liked this. I had fun writing about the tomatoes._

_I still very much appreciate reviews!_


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hello, everyone. Or I should say those remaining. I would say I'm sorry for the delay, but I know that doesn't excuse my absence. I am, however, very grateful for the ones that are still reading along. Words cannot describe. Here is some good news. I'm doing this 750 words a day with a friend of mine and it helped me write this chapter in six days straight. So, I'm guessing the next chapter will be up within the next week or week and a half. I do not plan on breaking my six day streak, so I will be forced to write.

Moving on, I hope you enjoy this. It may be a bit different from what I've previously written, I'm not sure. I'll let you decide.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Anthea had stormed into the house a second time. Jim had been in the kitchen enjoying a drink. For a moment he was confused by the noises in the hall, but it all became clear as he watch her walk into the kitchen and go for the chocolate that was sitting on the bar. After the first incident, he took Sebastian's advice and made sure something sweet was in sight at all times. He stood there with a nearly empty glass of whiskey watching her plant herself on one of the bar stools while peeling the wrapper off the chocolate. "You seem a bit stressed."<p>

"Only a bit?" She hissed at him, losing patience with the wrapper and proceeded to tear it off leaving shreds of it behind.

A slight flicker of fear masked by thrill went through him as he imagined what she could to a person in this kind of state. Hardly anyone would probably make it out alive, and if they did, they would be lucky enough to make it to surgery. He might have been giving her too much credit, but it was entertaining to think of.

The glass was set aside as he walked around the bar to her and stood off to the side. "You wouldn't tell me what happened yesterday, so I might as well demand that you tell me what's got you so angry today."

She turned a little to look at him before taking a fierce bite out of the chocolate. The intensity of her anger behind her eyes told him that it had to be something to do with work. If he had been the reason for her anger then he was sure things would have already been broken or someone would be bleeding.

"Demand? I shouldn't be surprised. Why are you so interested?" The piece in her mouth had been swallowed before she started speaking. She went to take another bite, but he stopped her by snatching the sweet away. "Give it back."

"Not until you tell me what happened." He said more firmly, leaning his back against the bar without looking at her.

Anthea moved off of her seat and placed herself in front of him. "You're going to bribe it out of me? How healthy." She waited a moment, but he made no move to consider her words. He only looked down at the floor with an unrecognizable expression. "That's it. Give me." Her hands went to snatch the treat out of his hand, but he moved it behind his back quickly.

"No, tell me what happened. If you're going to stay here, I won't have your sour mood ruining the friendly atmosphere." Jim said in a light tone as he watched the frustration grow in her face.

"Friendly atmosphere? Did you honestly just say that?" Anthea questioned as she took a step to the side to try and retrieve her chocolate that way.

He moved before she was able to get her hand around his back and stepped to the side to seat himself on the bar stool next to the one she had been occupying. The chocolate bar appeared again once he was seated and he taunted her with it. "There's not a big price to pay for this." His voice was lighter. She could tell he was enjoying their little game, but she was only growing more frustrated.

"Fine." His expression brightened as he thought he had won, but she walked around him to the other side of the bar where the refrigerator was and opened the freezer. She had picked up a few things for herself a few days back thinking they might come in handy. There was a pint of ice cream waiting for her. Once she acquired a spoon, she pulled out the ice cream and shut the freezer door with her foot. "There. You can keep that and I'll have this."

Jim glared at her thinking that she was cheating her way out of his fun, but let it go almost in the same instant. Other ideas started to work through his mind as he considered them, wondering which ones might be the key to figuring out what had made her so unpleasant. The only thing he could be thankful for was that he had not pushed her buttons to the point where she would take her anger out on him. That thought made him wonder.

She had started to make her way out of the kitchen, but he dropped the chocolate onto the bar, moving off of his seat, and blocking her way out. "Where do you think you're going?"

Anthea raised an eyebrow at him in confusing surprise. "I was going to curl up on the couch with this, but I'm guessing you're going to overrule that plan."

"You still have not told me what's bothering you." Jim replied looking down at her.

She took a deep breath and twirled the spoon between her fingers considering the idea of telling him. It was not like there was a down side to telling him, but it seemed so unusual to. Telling him would mean confiding in him and that could lead to more confusion. "Are you going to stop bothering me if I tell you?"

He grinned at her while he nodded. "It's a deal."

"Alright. Peace and quiet is worth it." The pint of ice cream was starting to make the surface of her palm go numb, so she set it aside until she had finished her explanation.

"Who said anything about peace and quiet?" Jim question smugly as he moved to sit on the last bar stool.

She only glared at him in response, but decided if she let herself be sucked into that argument there would not be rest and relaxation. "It's about the sniper and whoever is trying to kill me." It surprised her that she was able to say it so casually. Maybe she had been hanging around Jim too much.

"Really? I thought you were handling it rather well." He leaned onto the bar surface putting most of his weight on one elbow.

"I'm not finished." Anthea replied, pointing the spoon at him. "Mycroft still wants me to relocate and I've told him no several times. I'm safe enough here and I see no reason to fix what isn't broken." Her words nearly made her breath catch. She knew that was how she thought about staying here, but saying it out loud was something she had not expected to shock her.

Jim sat there with a satisfied expression as he watched the realization cross her face. He knew she would admit it one day, but he did not know when. Instead of teasing her about it, as much as he would like to just to see that fire ignite behind her eyes, he let it go for now. "Stop going to work. Problem solved."

"Really? You think I could stay locked up here for however long it takes to settle all of this?" She questioned, moving over to him.

"Yes, I do. You seem quite comfortable here." He kept his eyes on hers as she neared and resisted the urge to pull her closer.

Her mouth formed into a mischievous kind of smirk. "I would get restless."

"I think I could handle that easily." His voice dropped low as he leaned forward a bit.

She shook her head slowly then leaned her side against the bar. "No, I would start to move things. Rearrange furniture. Clean. That sort of thing."

Jim's eyes widened slight as she spoke. "You're right. Keep going to work." There was little he tolerated in his home and moving his things was something he would not forgive anyone for. The mental image that formed in his mind nearly made him shiver with disgust. Everything was just as he wanted it and it would not change unless he was the one who changed it.

"That's what I thought. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a delicious morsel." Anthea picked up her ice cream and started to make her way to the door when she caught Jim staring at her. She looked down at herself wondering if she had gotten something on her clothes. There was nothing, so she looked back at him. "What?"

Jim beckoned her with a finger and she almost decided against obeying him, but something in his face sparked her curiosity. She returned to her recent spot in front of him, but decided not to move any closer than that. "Yes?"

He stood up from his seat smoothly and fixed his suit jacket so it lay perfectly against him as usual. His expression was solemn yet soft. A combination she had not seen before or at least to her knowledge. While she was studying him, she did not realize that his hand was resting on the side of her neck while his thumb stroked the line of her jaw carefully. She could not stop her eyes from wondering away from his face as a new kind of nervousness overcame her. Not like it was before when it was mostly fear of what she was feeling. This nervousness soothed and excited her simultaneously. Her eyes lifted again to look back at him and her mouth dried nearly in an instant when she found the intensity in his own eyes. Pure domination was all she could see, but she willed herself to look past it. There was something else under his powerful exterior and she wanted to discover it.

Before she could start picking her way through the domination, he slowly leaned forward to tenderly press his lips to hers. Her eyes refused to close for a moment, too shocked by his carefulness. She did let herself relax after a moment and return the kiss that was just as gentle. Every other time he chose to display his, presumed, affection, he treated it roughly like he was trying to express and bury it simultaneously. This time it was almost hesitant as if he was unsure of his decision.

What seemed like a longer than necessary moment passed by before he pulled away. Her eyes stayed close as her mind tried to embed every detail about that kiss into its memory. He did not move away from her like she had assumed he would. Instead he lingered and she could tell that he was watching her. She had nearly become accustomed to being watched by him over the few days she spent here. It no longer made her uncomfortable, but it still drove her mad with curiosity about what he was thinking.

The hand that had been resting against her neck slid away and she heard him inhale a breath. She could not be sure if he was collecting himself or if he was suppressing something else. As soon as she let her eyes open, his entire person had returned to its normality; all business and crime.

"Go relax." Jim told her with a nod of his head in the direction of the door.

Anthea blinked once, but decided it was best not to delay. The pint of ice cream had started to sweat in her hand and the spoon was only barely being clutched in her other hand. She turned, made her way out of the kitchen, and into the living room.

As she took her seat on the couch, tucking her legs up beside her, she started to wonder what that incident was about. She was answered with a slight turn in her stomach that reminded her that she was still craving chocolate, but she would continue to pick apart what she could about him from that moment.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Anthea had started to feel a little funny over the next two weeks. Fatigue was one of the main problems. She would wake up from sleeping all night without interruption and feel as if she had stayed awake for two days. There was a few times where she would fall back asleep only to wake up again around one in the afternoon. She blamed it on the added stress that had settled on top of her. With living in Jim's house, doing her job right, and having Mycroft constantly, but subtlety reminding her that he wanted her to be somewhere he knew she was safe.

Oddly enough, Mycroft seemed to not be handling any out of country affairs lately. Everything was in driving distance or at the office. It was unusual for them not to travel at least once a week even if for a few hours. There was hardly mention of outside affairs. The change was peculiar, but she thought it was best considering the possible dangerous argument she would have with Jim if she had to leave.

It was another fatigued morning for her when she was able to force her eyes open. She could not tell what time it was, but did not care enough to find out. This was one of her days off, so she had nothing to hop out of bed for. The only problem was that she wanted to hop out of bed. She felt as if she had been sleeping the majority of her time here and was sick of only sleeping.

Another effort to remove herself from the bed and she walked out of the bedroom taking note that Jim must have not slept last night because his side of the bed was still made. She entered the door next to the bedroom which led to the guest room. Why she did not sleep in the guest room was one of the questions she asked herself daily. The closet in this room was the one that held her clothes. It was not like her to stay in her sleeping clothes all day, so she rummaged through the clothes that she had brought over and found a t-shirt that was twice her size and a pair of sweatpants that she forgot about.

After dressing, she wandered about the house making sure to avoid Jim's office. She was not afraid of it, but she respected the area when the door was closed. In all honesty, she did not want to hear about his latest plans to filter out the person that was after her or one of his budding ideas to wreak havoc on some poor country.

The kitchen always appealed to her. Now more than ever. There was always something new she had not seen before. She was not certain who brought in these things or who ordered them, but so far she liked their taste. Today, she discovered something wrapped in foil and wondered if Jim had started cooking something in the middle of the night, but forgot about it. Sebastian was usually the one to find unfinished meals or completely ruined ones. A few days ago, she had walked in on him disposing of what looked like charred flesh, but he assured her that it was only neglected lasagna.

Anthea figured that she might as well have a look at what it could be. If it was something that was actually cooked she would have to try it. Under the foil she found a sort of pasta. Fettuccine noodles spiced with a few herbs she could not think of and topped with Alfredo sauce. Usually pasta would have appealed to her, but when she smelled it her stomach nearly leaped out of her mouth. She quickly put it back after covering it properly and swallowed her stomach back into place. It was odd that something she knew she enjoyed now seemed to disgust her, but her attention was driven from thinking it over when she caught site of uncooked chicken. She baked the chicken before letting it simmer in a white wine sauce that she was lucky to find. Her mouth started to water as the smells started to come together.

Once it was done, she moved it onto a plate and carried it back to the bedroom with a knife and fork. The bed was more of an appealing dining area for her today. Far more comfortable than a bar stool and she was still unsure where the proper dining area was. She never bothered to find out since Jim seemed to never use it.

She was enjoying her small meal when the bedroom door opened with more force than necessary. It was not an intended force from the look on Jim's face, but he shrugged and walked over to the bed where he collapsed on it front first curling his arm under one of the pillows beside her. "When was the last time you slept?"

He did not answer at first. There was some sort of strangled groan that was lost in the feather down pillow before he turned over. "I'm bored."

The knife cut through the chicken easily enough as she carved another piece free. "Those two words are uttered by you more frequently than anything else." She guided the piece of chicken to her mouth with the fork.

Jim only stared at the ceiling. He seemed to be thinking of something, but he seemed to always be thinking of something. Silence probably never frequented that man's head.

After another few cuts of the chicken, she had finished and he had not moved a muscle apart from breathing. She set the plate and utensils on the end table then turned to face him properly. He was only dressed in part of one of his suits. The jacket and tie were missing and his shirt was untucked. She had only seen him in casual clothes once, but it was still odd in her mind to see him without a complete suit. "You're thinking too loud."

He turned his head toward her and blinked. "Should I even ask?"

"No, but it got your attention." Anthea replied with a smile.

"Yes, you have my attention. What are you going to do with it?" He asked, shifting so that he sat up against two pillows.

She shrugged casually. "Didn't think it through to this point." His eyes rolled dramatically, but she paid no attention to it. "If you're bored that means everything you've been planning, whatever those plans are, have been completed. Why not start something new?" Her stomach seemed to clench as the question ended. She knew she was suggesting that he start planning to terrorize something else and it made her a little sick that she was becoming okay with that. As long as it did not involve her or her work, she seemed to be fine with everything else. Part of her brain must have shut off so that she would be able to live here without thinking too much about morals.

"I've already got three of those. One will start in a few days." Jim answered calmly. "I have to fly to Chile for it to begin, so I have nothing to do until then." He ran a hand through his hair then let his head fall back with his eyes closed.

Anthea knew a bored Jim around the house was probably worse than her being angry. Her mind worked to try and figure something to keep him entertained for a few days. There was turn in her stomach that caused her thoughts to stop. She had to swallow to make sure she was not going to be sick. Soon her thoughts resumed and she said the first reasonable idea that came to mind. "Go early."

Jim stayed where he was, but inhaled a frustrated, deep breath. "And what good would that do? Sight see?"

"Why not? Do you never enjoy the places you go to other than causing significant problems in people's lives?" She closed her eyes and breathed slowly as a strong wave of nausea hit her.

"No, I don't." He retorted, placing his palm over his forehead.

"Alright..." Anthea breathed as her brain tried to come up with something else, but all she could think about was her stomach. First, the fatigue and now she felt like she was going to be seeing her chicken in reverse. More stress added to her already well formed list of stressful things in her life. As she thought about it, more ideas came to her. She had been stuck in this country ever since she returned from Lebanon. Her mind was used to traveling often. "I'll go with you. I like to see the sights and I need to get out of this country before it kills me."

Jim sat up at her statement with hint of urgency. "You want to go to Chile while I set my plans in motion?" He shook his head at the question. "And they call me insane."

"I could just go without you. I do have access to a jet as well." She said feeling a little distracted as she thought about lying down to try and sooth her stomach.

He was silent for a few moments, but he let out a breath as if he had been defeated. "Fine, we can leave today."

"No, not today." Anthea said quickly feeling the words catch in her throat. Another wave of nausea hit her and she started to feel a cold sweat form on top of her skin.

"Why not?" Jim sounded frustrated, but when she looked at him, his expression was smooth and was slowly starting to contort as he watched her start to stand from the bed shakily.

She forced herself to stand then took a moment to collect herself. "I don't feel fit to travel today. In fact..." The words were cut off as she felt her stomach leap over halfway up her esophagus. Her hand started to cover her mouth, but paused as her stomach settled again. She thought she would be able to finish her sentence, but another more forceful wave of nausea hit her.

Thankfully, the door to the bedroom had been left open. That meant there were fewer doors for her to stop and open as she rushed out of the bedroom. She yanked the bathroom door open, quickly slammed it shut, and then emptied her stomach into the toilet. Today was definitely not a good day for traveling.

The next day was a little better for her. She did not feel nearly as tired and definitely did not feel as sick as she did after eating the chicken. As she packed, she started to wonder about it. There were not many foods that her body refused to accept and chicken was not on that list. Fatigue was something she was certainly not used to, but she regarded it as her body telling her that it needed rest after all of the stress it was being placed under.

Before she started packing she had asked Jim how long he thought they would be staying and he simply shrugged his shoulders. Plans took time, she knew that, so she picked out nearly everything she owned there and sorted through them. If she needed more clothes or toiletries she could easily buy more with her own money. Earlier she had sent Mycroft and email saying that she was leaving the country for a short while. He had yet to respond, but she knew he would not respond for quiet some time since she was the one that always checked and answered his emails. It nearly felt like she was running away from home.

After packing away the last few articles of clothing she moved her packing into the bathroom to pick out the things she would need from there. The usual was picked out first; toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, etc. They were packed away in a smaller bag that would fit into her suitcase. Another few items were picked up before she glanced around to check for anything she was forgetting. Deciding she had not, she left the bathroom while zipping the bag closed and started for the guest room where her case was. She had almost reached the door when an alarming thought occurred to her making her drop the bag as she ran back into the bathroom.

There were cabinets under the sink where she kept some of her things. She pulled the doors open with such clumsiness that she nearly fell onto the floor. Her eyes searched hastily for the object she was looking for and soon found it. An unopened box. It was still sealed and completely full. She felt her eyes go wide and the color drain out of her face as she thought it had to be a mistake. To prove herself right she ran out of the bathroom, into the guest room after considerable fumbling with the door, and grabbed her phone.

It was times like this that she was thankful for her knowledge about Blackberry's or it would have taken her ages to find the calendar. Two clicks of a button later she scrolled back through the calendar as slowly as she could so that she would not overlook anything. Past appointments for Mycroft were not important to her, nor were scheduled meetings. She was only looking for one thing. Another day went past her screen and there it was. A single red dot listed first for the day. She was a week late.

Anthea nearly felt her legs give out from under her as she started for the bed. She reached it in time as she kept her eyes trained on the screen hoping that it would change, hoping that she had made a mistake in its placement. One flick of her thumb and she was back a full month looking at the last recorded red dot. The count was correct. She had made no mistake.

For a moment, she thought the room was going to start spinning, but she took a deep breath to ward it off. The breath helped for a bit, but then the room seemed to start close around her. Even though her legs had still not decided to function properly, she stood and walked calmly into the hall, closing the door behind her.

She thought she had already put herself in a questionable situation, but this took it to an entirely different level of questionable. Her hand had drifted to lie across her stomach. How could she let herself do this? Out of all the things she could do, which ranged from nothing to receiving nuclear codes, why would she let this happen? Another moment passed before she heard footsteps off to her right. The urge to hide overcame her, but she was relieved when it was only Sebastian.

He looked in her direction and stopped a few steps away from her. "You look like you've seen the dead walk."

A nervous and stressed laugh escaped her. "No, not quite." Her hand moved away from her stomach and brushed the hair away from her face. "Are you joining us in Chile?" She wanted to take the focus off of how she looked.

"Why? Would you like me to?" Sebastian raised a seductive eyebrow coupled with a smile that had been used on a number of people. The perfect expression to draw in even the unsuspecting. Luckily, she did not find herself interested in him, so its effects did nothing to her.

Anthea grinned before she answered. "Oh, the fun we could have, Sebastian. Me on a warm beach in a two piece while Jim strings you up to a palm tree."

"Yes, very funny." He rolled his eyes at her, but let his smile morph into a humored one. "But to answer your question, no. I have a job to carry out here before I make my way out there and that depends on if he still needs me."

She nodded as her mind tried to work out which important person may be assassinated within the next few days. This was an interesting way to cope with finding out what could be crippling news. Conversing with a sniper about his plans. Not something someone like her would do, but she sensed that she might be doing it more often and it scared her. She wanted to get away before she accidently told him her news. "Well, I guess we'll see you in a few days. I have to finish packing." The door opened easily behind her and she slipped inside before he could say anything else.

Another hour of simultaneous packing and panicking, she had finally finished with a few minutes to spare before she would have to track down Jim. During the hour Anthea kept deciding and re-deciding to tell him or not to tell him. Once, she even considered leaving by jumping out of one of the windows. It was not a long drop, so it would not hurt her. The idea was cowardly and she knew he would track her down eventually no matter how hard she tried to cover her tracks. With her last few minutes she made her final decision to tell him.

Jim was in the living room taking a call he had received at the last minute. She set her suitcase by the door and watched him slowly move around the room as he talked. The decision to tell him was final, but she had not decided when or how to tell him. Her nerves were put on edge as she considered the options. If she told him now, she could have it over and done with. Telling him later meant it could be in Chile or when they returned. It was out of the question to tell him on the plane. She wanted to do this with her feet firmly on the ground. Another few conflicting thoughts rushed around her head before she settled on telling him now. It would be rough, but at least it would be done.

She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had not noticed that he had ended his call and was making his way over to her. Her stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor while her heart leaped to the top over her throat. Before she could open her mouth, he took her hand gently and started to guide her to the front door. "Ready?"

As much as she screaming at herself to say it, she found that the words were buried somewhere beneath her pounding heart. "Yes." It was the only word that she could let out that would be solid and unquestionable. The news would not be shared today.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Anthea sat across from Jim outside of the tiny shop as she swirled the liquid in her cup lazily with a plastic spoon. She had her elbow propped up on the table so that her chin rested in her palm. The turning sensation in her stomach started up again as she thought about the idea of drinking the coffee even though she should not. Every thought of food or drink seem to nauseate her on some level these days. It could be blamed on the new cuisine that she had yet become accustomed to over the past week, but that was wistful thinking. Water was not an option in the country unless it was properly bottle.

Jim was seated across from her as he flipped through a file he had brought with him. She had been studying him since the drinks had been brought to them. The ideas swirling around in her head that might possibly start the conversation she did not expect to have with him. If someone had told her that she would be contemplating on how to strike up a conversation with James Moriarty about they're 'arrangement', she would have laughed.

He had yet to say anything about her staring at him, but she guessed he had decided not to say anything to make things simple. The entire trip here, for her, was supposed to take her mind off the sniper, the man trying to kill her, and Mycroft's subtle pressures to rethink her living situation. He had been slightly mindful of her wellbeing as of late and she was starting to admit to herself that she was enjoying it.

Before she disclosed some severely important information, she wanted to know where she stood with him. There was no label on what they were and she did not expect there to be one, but this desired somewhat of a label or at least an idea of where they were. It was either now or never, so she took a deep breath to try to settle her nervous stomach and let the plastic spoon drop into the untouched cup which started to move with the tiny current she had created.

"You're not going to like this conversation, but it's been bothering me." Anthea said almost letting the words rush out of her mouth. There was not any ice to break, but with Jim there was always slight tension to pass through.

He raised his eyes from the file he was going over, but made no other movement. "So, why do we have to have it?"

"Because it's relatively important." She added a silent 'to me' at the end just to be truthful with herself.

Jim reclined some in his chair and moved his focus to her with somewhat of a glint in his eye. She started to wonder if it ever went away or if she was just starting to become accustomed to it. "Important? Which kind of important?" He had been asking her questions throughout the week trying to catch any clues as to why the man named Hart would be after her other than the obvious ones.

"Us important. I want to know exactly what this is. It's become oddly confusing since this… whatever this is, started." She paused to look at him as she had not noticed that her eyes had shifted to the middle of the table only to look at him briefly. His expression had not changed and she knew it was a fairly good sign that he would be cooperating with whatever was being asked of him. Somehow she felt as if she had over explained herself and decided to add a summarized sentence at the end to clear up any confusion. "So, all I want to know is where we stand."

Jim only moved to lift his drink to his mouth and take a hearty sip. "That's simple, but you won't like the answer much." His tone had a hint of warning, but his face was animated as if he was talking to someone he was displeased with. It was concerning her and made her already unsettled stomach drop heavily, but she wanted him to continue regardless if it was not something that would worsen her mood.

After pausing to see if she would stop him, he spoke again. "Simply put, I enjoy your company. You're entertaining." His fingers intertwined in his lap as he spoke. "Does that answer your question well enough?"

Entertaining. The word felt like a dull arrow pushing at her chest. Was that all she was? Of course she was. What else did she expect from a man that paid four million quid just to be humored? She swallowed hard and fought the urge to hug her waistline. "Yes, yes it does." Her voice was low, but she was determined to keep her face emotionless.

"Good. Anything else you would like to discuss on that particular topic?" Jim asked casually as he repositioned himself to start looking over the file again. Everything about him now seemed cool and more distant than she had been used to.

"No, that's all." Her hand closed around the cup of coffee thinking that she would be able to take a drink out of habit, but the reality of his answers sunk in quickly. The pounding beat of her heart seemed to jump into her throat making her stand suddenly. "Excuse me."

She moved into the shop and darted for the bathroom where it was usually cooler. A sudden sheen of sweat had covered her face by the time she had closed the door to the ladies room. Her hands switched on the faucet nearest to her and let it run for a few seconds before cupping her hands under the stream. The water splashed over her face and somewhat on the floor, but she did not care. She wanted to take control over the unusual feeling inside her that had peaked once she took in the reality of the situation.

How else was this supposed to play out? Did she somehow convince herself that everything would be perfect? Nothing about her present situation even whispered decent.

After calming herself by taking several deep breathes and rinsing the sweat off of her face about five times, Anthea decided to venture back out to where Jim was. She told herself it would have to be blunt. Just to say it. No hesitation or beating around the bush. Something like this could not wait any longer and she knew if she did, it would only become more difficult to do.

Outside, Jim remained in his seat hardly bothered by her sudden leave. She was not sure if she was relieved or upset by it. The confusing emotion would have to be ignored for now.

The majority of the people that had been sitting around them when they first sat down had dispersed without her noticing. That gave her some comfort. At least she could do this without making a scene with other people around her that were only trying to have a relaxing afternoon.

As she thought about it, she realized that if she decided to sit back down at the table she would feel confined to that seat. She would be rooted to that seat for an unknown amount of time and she did not want to feel limited at a time like this. The other side of the choice appealed to her also because it gave her a kind of stability and that was something she was probably going to need as soon as the words left her mouth.

Anthea ultimately decided to not sit again for simple reason that if she needed to she could run without the obstacles made by the chair and table. "Let's go for a walk."

Jim looked up at her with a peculiar expression, but said nothing has he smiled and closed the file. He stood, taking the file with him, and offered his arm to her, which she took almost too eagerly. She felt better with something to hang on to. It kept her mind from getting too carried away with possible outcomes.

As they walked she kept putting off when she would open her mouth. It became a game of failure in her mind. 'I'll say it when we pass this store' or 'When we reach the corner'. Each time she started to open her mouth, but felt the weight of the conversation push down on her words and making her nearly choke on them.

He, however, was as calm and casual as ever. There was not any tension in his posture or menace in his expression. People that passed by them hardly had a clue what he did for a career. They either ignored him or only gave him a quick once over seeing how he was slightly over dressed for the hot weather, but it did not seem to bother him.

After the twelfth time she promised herself she would say something, Anthea let out a frustrated growl at her failure and let go of his arm to walk in a circle while her hands clutched at the roots of her hair. She never imagined a conversation causing this much stress on a single individual.

"Are you alright?" Jim asked as she watched with curiosity. He had taken a step away from her when she started her circle. His experiences with her in any negative mood had educated him to keep somewhat of a distance between them.

"No. I'm not alright." She replied stopping once she made a full circle. Her hands dropped to her sides and she took a deep breath to calm herself. It did not work, but it did help her head clear to focus on what was important. "I need to tell you something." The tone in her voice had dropped to something more serious and shaky than she had intended.

Jim's eyebrows rose quickly as his mind started to work. The gears could be seen behind his eyes along with something less than a dash of concern. He stepped closer to her unconsciously, so that their conversation would not be overheard. "What is it? Does it have to do with the attack?" His eyes started to shift away from her to look around them in case anyone looked remotely suspicious, but he forced himself not to. That action could give away something to whoever might be watching them.

"No, nothing like that." Anthea lowered her voice when he came nearer. Her head shook a few times and she placed her hands over her face. There was no way to do this smoothly. She would have to come out and say it hoping for the best case scenario, whatever that may be. Words started to form on her tongue, but she was interrupted when she felt her hands being pulled away. She looked up to find him closer and looking down at her. There was not much she could tell from his expression, but she knew he was listening.

Another deep breath and she started to speak only allowing herself to look at his chest. "This... thing I have to tell you, I don't know how you're going to react. I don't even know how I'm reacting except for whatever this is." She felt her hands start to shake, so she wrapped her arms around her waist and pinched the fabric of her shirt between her thumb and two fingers.

He was watching her more closely now. The way she was acting had started to concern him more. Nothing about the past few weeks had flustered her this much. Not the fact that she was shot, someone was trying to have her killed, or even that her boss was doing his damnedest to cage her up somewhere she did not want to be. Whatever was bothering her now must be something far more than worth his attention and it excited him, but he feared his patience would not last long.

Anthea took another moment to gather her nerves, resolved to say it as plainly as possible, and if things took a turn downhill, to hop on the next plain to London. "There's no other way to say it, so I'll say it bluntly." She swallowed the lump that she had been talking around and looked straight at him. Her mouth opened, but was cut off by the sound of tires screeching on the street they were standing next to.

Both of them turned their focus to the brown, unmarked van that had taken a turn nearly on two wheels and was presently speeding down the street. The brakes screeched as the van turned in their direction and abruptly stopped directly in front of them. A slight commotion could be heard, before the sliding door opened and three men sprung from the opening.

Anthea could only stare at it while Jim had started to move himself in front of her as he pushed her backwards repeating the word 'run', but his action would be futile. One of the men shoved Jim out of the way with a wide shoulder almost knocking him to the ground as the other two maneuvered around to get to her.

The fight or flight reflexes had finally got through to her mind and she started to turn and run in a random direction, but she soon felt a bruising grip on her arm and felt herself being yanked backward. She heard herself yelp in more of surprise than pain that had shot through her shoulder. Another hand covered her mouth with a rag and the only thing she could think of to do was hold her breath. She took a chance at kicking behind herself and luckily made contact with something. The man that had been holding the cloth to her mouth grunted in pain and let his hand fall away and allowed her to scream as the other man holding her arm twisted it behind her back as he pulled her backwards to the van.

Her scream had not been one of pain, but of slight fear as her eyes found where Jim was standing with a gun pointed at him. It was not just a simple sound that someone would usually utter as they were being dragged away by unknown men, but a single word. A name. His name.

The man holding her arm had let go, but only to grasp her waist to jerk her haphazardly into the van. No one else was inside, but the driver from what she could tell, but her mind was too preoccupied with its focus on the outside world she was being ripped away from. A second man, the one that had the rag, entered the van as soon as she was pushed against the side that was opposite the door. Her back struck the metal roughly, but she paid no attention to the shooting pain as she started to clumsily crawl toward the open door. Hands closed around her calves and she was pulled back again. Even if she had reached the door, the man that was holding the gun had blocked her way as he heaved himself into the van.

This was her last shot to escape and she took it. She turned to look behind her to the one holding her legs and kicked him in the face assuring a broken nose. He let go as blood started to poor from his nose and she scrambled forward.

Jim had been pushed toward the shops with the gun in his face. It was obvious that they wanted him far away from her and the van. He was already cursing himself for not bringing Sebastian with them. There had been weeks without any activity that suggested that she might be in danger and he let his common sense be overruled by his certainty.

He heard his name shouted, but it seemed so far away to him because his mind was already starting to work on what would be the best course of action. There was no way for him to overcome the man in front of him and there was not a way for him to move quickly enough to get out of the line of fire.

Before he knew it, the man had walked away from him and started to climb into the van. Movement beyond him caught his eye. Once the obstruction had moved, he could see Anthea moving for the door. Her eyes locked with his causing him to snap out of his calculating state and rush towards the van. He had nearly made it half way when she shouted his name again, but was cut short as a man closed a rag over her mouth and pulled her inside. The sliding door slammed shut as the van sped off making the tires squeal as it did.

He could not hear the tires against the asphalt, the roar of the engine as more gas pumped through it, or even the voices of the crowd that seemed to be gathering. The only sound that rang deafeningly in his ears was her shouting his name. It was on a repeat. Every time it was cut off it would start over again. Each cut off made his stomach sink lower and lower to the ground.

Only a moment passed before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, still staring after the van, and called the first of two people that he would concern himself with now. The first was Sebastian. He told him to board the next flight to Chile even if he had to hijack the plane. The second was the most dreaded, but he lacked in options.

After two rings someone answered. "I'm going to need your resources."

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><p><em>AN:_ _There you have it. Like I said in the first note, I plan on having the next one up in the next week to week and half._

_I do like reviews. I tend to love them._


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: So sorry this one isn't as long as the other. I blame it on all of the dialogue. I don't what happen, but this is what came out. I hope everyone enjoys it even though it's on the short side.

Plus side, I did publish sort of when I said I would.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

* * *

><p>Jim wanted to hit his head against a brick wall. The conversation was not going smoothly and time was being wasted. "Are you going to listen to me or not? You have no idea how much I hate asking for help."<p>

"Asking for help? You're not asking. You're covering up. I knew there was something underhanded." Mycroft sounded calm, but the tension in his voice told Jim that he had started walking around whatever room he was occupying.

"I'm covering up?" Of course this would be a question asked, but he thought even Mycroft could tell if he was telling a lie. "Why would I be covering something up about this?"

"To avoid punishment? To move the blame to someone else? You are a criminal in a higher class. That's what high class criminals do." He sounded slightly disgusted that he had to inadvertently give Jim a compliment, but he neglected to omit the adjective.

"You think I did this? Thank you for the assumption, quite flattered, but if you can open your tiny brain open for a moment, I didn't do this." Jim paused letting his mind settle for a moment so that he could think clearly. "I have no reason to."

For a brief moment he remembered being in Anthea's flat. It was the first time he broke into her flat. The distinct memory that came back to him was sitting on her couch with her and saying, _"I have no reason or inclination to cause you harm."_ Funny how that declaration had held out this long.

"You have plenty of reasons to." Mycroft shot back.

"I may have plenty of reasons to, but I did not act on them." Jim took a deep breath hoping that some kind of agreement could be made soon. "If I did ever decide to act on them, do you really think I would make such a big scene out of taking her? No one even noticed when my people snatched up your brother's pet."

There was silence on the other side of the line and he started to think that he had finally pushed the government official past his tunnel vision. "No need to make a flamboyant scene when you're not in the middle of it."

Jim gave up. He felt like he was going around in circles and circles never changed. "You don't want to save her, that's fine. I'm sure you can find a new replacement easily. And I'll be sure to tell her how much you cared when I've recovered her." It sounded if Mycroft was going to retort, but he never had the chance.

The phone was tossed onto the bed and Jim stared at it. Another one of the rare times that he had ever tried to do something even remotely beneficial for someone else besides himself and it was not taken seriously. He understood on some level. Once you've built up an image, it was considered taboo if you did something that did not line up with that image.

What else could he do? There was always something else that he could do. This was just one of the times where his mind had yet to run across the right idea. None of his people had been able to find anyone that had any malicious background with the name Hart. They only had one window and that was the sniper. He was surely dead by now and he had known very little. Everything else ended up at a dead end. There was no record in the government's history with the name Hart that worked near Anthea in the last ten years. She said she did not know anyone with the last name. Some of his people had proposed that he had used a fake name, but he knew it was real. No criminal that planned to do something grand would hide their real name. It was ego in the end along with saying 'I did this'.

During his thoughts, Sebastian had entered the room. He carried his luggage with him and let it drop near the door. "Alright, what the hell is going on that I had to rush down here for? Did something go wrong?"

"Yes, it did." Jim felt his voice slip into a monotone.

"Well, what is it? We haven't got a lot of time before..." Sebastian cut himself off when he finally noticed Jim's expression. Usually when plans went wrong, Jim was either beaming with excitement because it posed a new challenge for him or he was planning on taking the nearest person's head off and using it as a bowling ball. Now, he looked vacant. Sebastian could still see the ever turning gears, but he was calm. Eerily calm.

Jim finally shifted his eyes to Sebastian then gestured to the chair that was nearest to his employee. "Have a seat. I have a story to tell you."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Someone took her off the street?" Sebastian asked after Jim had finished laying out what had happened.

"Was 'three men pulled her into a white unmarked van' not clear enough for you?" Jim retorted nearly hissing the last word. He had yet to sit during the length of his story.

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair then took a deep breath. "Alright. Easy." He was not entirely sure what to say Jim. They had never had this problem before. There was a loss for words because Jim had never lost anything as long as Sebastian knew him.

He thought about what the crime was like around the part of Chile they were in. It could have been anything from rogue kidnappers looking for money or whoever was after her. There were still too many possibilities to consider before they started narrowing them down and who knew when that would start happening. Jim was acting as if he might snap and burn the entire country down if the mood struck him.

Anthea was not just some other person and Sebastian knew that from she first arrived in Jim's house. He never gave it a second thought until then and now she seemed to be more vital than water. It concerned him that his boss had invested so much in her even though he was not completely sure what exactly he had invested in her. He did not love her. That was impossible, but she was important for some reason.

Jim finally sat himself down on the end of the bed with a vacant expression etched firmly on his face. His hands were still in his lap and he slouched forward a little. Eyes unfocused, only just noticeably breathing, no other movement other than the automatic ones. Sebastian had seen him in this particular fashion before and it always meant he was starting to put together a possible idea to execute whatever his goal was. The trouble was there was hardly anything to go on. No one had found anything about Hart and there had been no other leads. They had hit a wall in their research and Jim started to conduct his own research complaining that he could not rely on anyone to do his work correctly. He was trying to put pieces together without first finding which pieces went to which puzzle.

Sebastian let him think for a while as he tried to come up with his own ideas. If it was Hart then he would not necessarily be in the country. He could be back in Great Britain for all anyone knew. Assuming he was in country, he would be nearby wherever they had placed Anthea after taking her off the street. There were several places that they could have taken her. Mountains were all along one side of the country where hardly anyone lives. Dozens of roads stretched out from the cities with nothing in between them. If they were going to be reasonable about the situation, they would have to consider that she may be anywhere in the country or even taken to one of the countries along Chile's border.

The sound of movement roused him from his thoughts. Jim had stood again and was walking toward the balcony. He slid the door open with one hand as the other held his phone. Sebastian could not recall the phone ringing or making any sound, but he let it go. The door had been closed behind him and all he could see was his boss' back.

There were not many people he would be talking to willingly during this time, but whoever it was must have been in good standing with Jim if he was taking their call. No matter how good of a standing people had with him, there was always a good chance to fall out of it, so he kept his ears open for any sound of discontentment coming from the balcony.

He moved from his seat intending to use the toilet, but the extra set of luggage caught his attention. It was just inside the nearly closed door of the closet. For some reason he had forgot about Anthea bringing anything with her. He remembered how flustered she was a week ago when she suddenly darted back into the room she had come from declaring that she needed to finish packing. At the time, he wrote it off as something else he did not entirely understand about her, like her sudden anger. Jim had said she was trying to tell him something just before they took her, but never did. Perhaps the two moments were connect? Maybe it would have given them a clue as who was after her even if she said it had nothing to do with the people after her.

"There must be something I'm missing." Jim muttered to himself as he stepped back into the room.

Sebastian had still not moved into the bathroom as he distracted himself with thoughts of Anthea's peculiar behavior. He only just noticed Jim returning to the room. His mind returned to the present and tried to recall if anything had been said. When he could not remember, he returned to his chair to slouch in it as far as he could. Jet lag was starting to wear on him now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Jim paced through the room once before stepping down into the small living room and crossing to the desk that was decorated with nothing but papers. "There's something here. Something we've all overlooked."

"Overlooked?" Sebastian let his head roll to one side to his boss. "How could we have overlooked something? Everyone that you've employed on this assignment has been through it with a fine tooth comb. And when they didn't find it then, they went through it with two finer tooth combs." He dug into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes and lighter.

"There's still something." Jim mumbled as he looked down at the strewn papers.

There was a spark from the lighter in Sebastian's hand before it ignited. He held it to the end of the cigarette that was hanging casually from his mouth. Once it was lit, he tossed the pack and lighter onto a nearby table and let out a breath of smoke. "Well, if you find it let me know."

Jim ignored him as he stared passed the papers in front of him. He was trying to open his mind to anything that he may have disregarded, but he kept coming up with nothing. Either things did not add up with the situation or the ideas were too farfetched for him to even consider.

"You're not going to light something on fire, are you?" Sebastian asked after a few minutes of silence had passed by.

"It's been pondered." A vague answer to a vague question. If given the opportunity, he would burn down each building in the city, one by one, just to blow off steam.

Sebastian sighed heavily. "Well, while you're pondering, I'm going to go find a pub or something that sells alcohol." He had begun to stand when he was stopped suddenly by Jim's disagreement.

"No, you'll stay here." Some of the vowels were drawn out purposely. "And you'll stay sober." Jim had turned to look over his shoulder to gauged Sebastian's reaction.

"I'll stay here?" Sebastian completed his stand. "If I'm being dragged into this, I want to at least enjoy myself a little."

Jim arched an eyebrow at him. "Enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, enjoyment. You know, what you get out of bombing people or buildings or kidnaping for money." Sebastian snuffed his barely half smoked cigarette out in what looked like an ashtray on the table.

"Let's get one thing clear, Sebastian." Jim had made a full turn to face him. He leaned against the desk as his hands gripped the edge. "I did not drag you into this, you came willingly."

"Like I would have had the option to refuse." He retorted sharply.

"I'm not finished!" Jim's voice rose somewhere in between yelling and simply speaking loudly. If it weren't for the carpet under their feet, his voice would have echoed. After letting the tension settle in the air, he continued. "Enjoyment is not a part of this. If you think I'm enjoying this, you must still be as brainless as when I first found you."

Sebastian felt his jaw clench on his own. There was a lot he could handle from his boss, but some things did not roll off his shoulders as others did. This was one of those times he strongly considered putting a bullet in the man's leg. He would never actually kill him. If he did, he would be out of job and a sizable pay check. He would not go back to taking second-rate jobs for less than what he was worth.

Jim watched him without blinking has he picked apart the reaction. It was one he was quiet familiar with. "If you're going to shoot me, could you get on with it?"

"Alright…" He breathed, running a hand through his hair and rounded the chair heading for the door. "At least show me where this happened."

Jim only nodded once then pushed himself off of the desk. He picked up his phone and a pair of sunglasses before meeting Sebastian at the door. "What have we considered?"

"You're kidding." Sebastian looked at his boss exasperated, but Jim only waited patiently for him to answer the question.

"What haven't we considered?" He repeated, letting his frustration about the topic slip into his tone. "People she worked with, people she used to work with, people that work in the same building, but have no idea who she is, people that live near her, people that know Mycroft Holmes, people that would want information out of her about him, people that would want information on you. What category did we miss?"

"Have you ever considered your own affiliates?" Mycroft stood down the hall from them. He had been heading to the room when they had exited.

Jim paused in the hallway letting the door close behind as he looked at the man before them. "This is a surprise." Sebastian had tensed when Mycroft made himself known. He did not know how many more meetings Jim and Mycroft could have before one of them ended up dead by the other.

"Not much of a surprise since you spoke to my acting head of security not too long ago." Mycroft replied before taking a few steps closer to them. "Back to my question. Have you considered your own affiliates?"

No one said anything for a moment as the question lingered in the air. Sebastian was watching Mycroft, but watching his boss out of the corner of his eye. Jim only blinked a few times before he spoke. "What would my affiliations want with your assistant? They have no desire to play with your government like I do from time to time."

"I'm sure all of your work has been well received over the majority. However, I am also sure that your work has produced an upset soul or two that would be courageous enough to try and attempt revenge."

Mycroft answered smoothly, keeping his focus on Jim.

Jim shrugged. "So, I've stepped on a few toes. They understood that everything wouldn't be beneficial for them and agreed to it."

"Even so, people become displeased over time." Mycroft started to turn, but stopped part way through. "I'm at a hotel down the street if you change your mind." He glanced between Jim and Sebastian before he started walking again then vanished around the corner.

Sebastian stared at the corner with a confused expression. "How did he know? Well, I know how, but how did he find out so quickly?"

Jim folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door. "He is not terribly incapable of doing the same things we do." He mused out loud in answer to his companion's question. His thoughts were being shifted to entertain Mycroft's suggestion. It was not entirely impossible, but he was too certain that his former clients and present ones knew the risks of crossing him. Very few people chose to cross him and those few always met an end one way or another.

"I still want to know. He hasn't tapped my phone has he?" Sebastian asked suddenly turning towards his boss.

"Out of all the things you know he's capable of, you pick amateur phone tapping?" Jim rolled his eyes with a deep breath then started down the hall. "Stick to shooting people, Sebastian."

Sebastian glared at his back, but followed a few steps later. Phone tapping was not that horrendous of an idea in his mind. It explained why he would have known this soon and why he arrived in Chile so quickly.

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><p><em>AN: Well, like I said it's on the short side. I do hope everyone still enjoyed it. _

_I still like reviews. Even if they're hateful ones._


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Hello, again! I just wanted to take a moment and say thank you to everyone that's clicked the favorite and story alert button. Even if reviews make me smile more, the fact that your interest is so great that you click those buttons is not overlooked. I'm very happy that people are enjoying the story and hope not to disappoint.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Anthea awoke to the feeling of something cold and rough pressing against her cheek. The taste in her mouth reminded her of copper and nearly assumed it was blood before she swallowed against her dry throat and felt nothing slide down it. Chloroform always left a distinct after taste. It was a relief for a moment until she realized that her hands were tied behind her back. Nothing out of the ordinary for a kidnapping, but it was more than uncomfortable. She discovered that her ankles had also been tied together when she tried to readjust herself in a more agreeable position. Half on her side and half face down was not very relaxing especially on such a hard surface. Her eyes opened to a dim a light that was somewhere above her. Once they were focused, she discovered that she was lying on concrete.<p>

"Could be worse." She mumbled to herself thinking she could be somewhere in the desert instead of in some form of building.

The only thing she was focused on now was somehow maneuvering herself into an upright position. Every twist and turn caused the concrete to scratch into her skin. Not to mention that whatever was binding her was also rubbing the skin of her wrists raw. After a few clumsy moves, she was able to sit up straight using the wall behind her as support.

She looked around the room she was in. It was not spacious or confining. Something akin to a normal sized room. It would have been more normal if it was not nearly bare. Apart from the light in the center of the ceiling and what looked like a tarp in a far corner, the entire place was empty. There was a door across from her with light coming out from under it. She could not be sure if it was sunlight or false light, but it gave her some kind of comfort. If there was light, then there was a way out.

Her head rested against the wall as she closed her eyes. There was no use in screaming for someone or for panicking. Anyone around would be part of the group that had taken her. Panicking would only drain her of any energy she had left.

She took a deep breath and tried to recall anything from the van ride, however, once the rag had covered her mouth for the final time, she had inhaled involuntarily causing a full dose of Chloroform to fill her lungs and make its way into her blood stream. There would be no way to recover any detail about that van ride. The only thing she did remember was standing there with Jim before the men jumped out of the van and dragged her in.

Anthea paused her thoughts as a not so new realization came to her. She was going to tell Jim about the baby. Baby. The word circled her mind a few times as her breathing became irregular. She knew she was starting to panic, but she could not stop herself. What if she had lost it? What if they had been too rough with her? She was not keen on having the baby or had even decided if she was going to, but it seemed her maternal instincts were taking over reason for the moment. Her eyes opened and moved to her lap as she tried to guess if anything had gone wrong, but with only a small amount of light and no way to actually check, she would not know.

The door in front of her opened, drawing her attention away from concerns. Light flowed in from behind whoever had opened the door which made it impossible to see his face. She knew the person was male just from how broad the shoulders were. For a moment he stood there without making a sound and she could feel him watching her. Her eyes were not used to the amount of light that was being let into the room, so she was forced to turn her head down and close her eyes again to prevent from becoming blinded temporarily.

Footsteps neared her at a leisurely pace and stopped some few feet in front of her. She blinked a few times and hoped that her pupils had adjusted enough to the light. The man standing before her was one of the men that had taken her. He was the one that had administered the Chloroform. "What do you want with me?"

"It's really not what I want from you, Missy." The man said as he knelt down and held out a hand. "Come on. Stretch out your legs so I can undo the zip ties"

She hesitated for a moment before obliging. If he was going to undo them, that meant she would be going somewhere and she would much rather walk than be carried. That was when she realized her shoes were still on her feet. Usually shoes were taken away from people to prevent them from running away. Not everyone tolerated going around barefoot on rough ground, but she would not mind if she found the chance to slip out of this place.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocket knife that sprung open with a push of his thumb. The blade had no trouble breaking the hard plastic that had been secured around her ankles.

With the zip ties cut, he stood, closed the few feet between them, then reached under her shoulder to pull her up. She stumbled awkwardly without the balance of her arms, but he held firmly onto her and started guiding her toward the still open door. Her eyes had adjusted to the new light and she could spot a window on the opposite wall just to the right of the door frame that was letting in the light. The closer she got to the window she was able to see that they were on ground level. Helpful information if she ever figured out a way to escape, but the helpful part was dampened when she saw that nothing but a wasteland of desert stretched outside the window.

They turned left after entering the narrow hallway. She was forced to walk in front of the man that still had a hold on her. There were a few more windows identical to the first one she saw that lined the hallway and only one other door before the hall turned. They passed that door, rounded the corner, and in another few feet there was another door that was ajar. Some faint noise was coming from it that sounded like someone talking or possibly a television. As they neared the door, the man's grip loosened to let go of her, but she felt his hand press against her back and shove her into the room. She stumbled in, but was able to stay on her feet.

It was a larger room than the one she had been in, but this one had some furniture in it. A fold out table and a few fold out chairs to match. There was a man sitting at the table that she recognized as the one that had pointed a gun at Jim. Another man was opposite her with his back turned and a phone pressed against his ear.

The voice that was coming from the man did not connect in her brain at first, but when it did, she had to force herself not to gasp. Running was not an option, not with her arms bound. Anthea wanted to close her eyes and hope that she was just having one of the nightmares that she used to have. Her eyes, however, would not obey the commands of her brain. They widened and to accompany it, her mouth dried while a nervous sweat formed on her forehead. There was nothing she could do get away from this. She was in a country she hardly knew, no communication to the outside world, if she did somehow get free there was only the desert to welcome her.

The man on the phone ended the call after a moment then turned around to look at her. A sinister smile crossed his face along. He still looked the same minus a few years etched around his face. Same bright blue eyes that were more piercing than beautiful, same cropped, dark hair, same posture of power, arrogance, and a sickening amount of charm. He walked toward her, scanning her as he neared her and circled her once before coming to stand in front of her. "Well, well. Isn't it you again?"

Anthea could not and did not want to speak. Nothing smart came to mind. Everything she could think of was hurtful to him and therefore would be hurtful to her. She swallowed against the dryness that was easing its way down her throat and waited.

"Nothing to say?" He asked tilting his head to one side. His eyes blinked at her curiously as he waited for something to come out of her mouth.

Anthea only stared back at him unable to help which ever emotion decided to shine behind them. It could have been anger, fear, anxiety, arrogance, or a completely blank look for all she knew.

"Alright, you'll talk sooner or later." The man said, shrugging his shoulders as he turned away from her to walk towards the table. He sat in the chair opposite of the other man and shifted so that he could look at the entire room. "I'm a patient man as you know."

Her eyes had unfortunately followed him still in the state of shock. After he sat down, her jaw tightened and she looked at the floor not wanting to look at anyone.

It had been years since she last saw him and that last time was not a pleasant one. Memories were starting to emerge from the very deepest part of her memory, ones that she fought to bury. Not even Mycroft knew about them and she refused to tell him. She covered up everything as soon as she entered the office for the first time. No questions were ever asked about it and life went on with her new career.

Minutes went by as she stood there with an unreadable expression across her face, but still looking at the floor. Her breathing was steady along with her heart beat. During those minutes she had controlled the adrenaline that wanted to flow freely through her bloodstream then started to think of... anything. It was not a comforting reminder that Mycroft had no clue who this man was which meant Jim was also clueless to this man's existence. There were only three people in the entire world she was confident that would be able to find her, one was sitting in the same room and the other two had no idea about the other one.

She inhaled a deep breath and finally decided that silence was not going to get her anywhere quickly. "Could someone release my hands?" Her voice was strong, but it would not have an effect since she kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

"What a stupid question." One of the men said off to her side.

His reaction refueled her to snap back into usual self. "If you release my hands, what could I possibly do? Take on three men? Run away? I'm not sure if you noticed the desert out there." Anthea pulled her eyes from the floor during her questions to look at the man that had spoken. It was the one that came for her and he had nothing else to say. He dumbly looked at his boss for an answer.

She risked moving her focus to him and hoped it would not be a mistake. He was slouched in his chair in a relaxed fashion and had a slightly amused look on his face. If she had to guess, he was probably shifting through memories like she was. "Why do you need your hands, Anthea?"

"I want to use the bathroom, Alexander." The name felt like a thorn in her mouth. It was foreign to her, but uncomfortably familiar.

Alexander did not consider her statement for long. He nodded once at the man that had looked to him. The knife came out again as he stood. Two seconds later her hands were free and she took a moment to look at the red rings around her wrists. She let them fall to her sides as she looked back to Alexander. "So?"

"Five minutes, Pete." Alexander declared with a neutral tone before turning to talk to the man sitting opposite him.

Pete, who was the man with the knife, turned her around, and nudged her towards the door. "Go on. It's to the right."

Anthea followed his directions down the hall and pass a few doors before he stopped her at one. He opened it for her revealing a rather clean bathroom. Clean, presuming that the three or four men had been living here for quite some time. It had the essentials apart from a shower or bath tub.

She stepped in quickly, closing the door behind her, and locked it. Her back rested against the door as she felt her emotions start to overtake her body. Angry and frightened tears where threatening to fall, her hands were starting to shake, and she thought her legs might give out at any time. Out of all the people she imagined that wanted her dead and would be able to find her, Alexander Millford was not the person at the top of the list.

She only had five minutes to herself, so she pulled away from the door and turned on the faucet. There was no mirror which did not bother her, but she found it odd and wondered if someone had taken it down. Glass made a good choice for a weapon. After splashing her face and scrubbing some of the dirt off of her hands out of habit, she turned off the water and tried to prepare herself.

Finding a weapon was not the reason she wanted to go to the bathroom. It was the farthest reason from her mind. Despite the fact that her whole body was completely overtaken by the fight or flight reflexes, she still felt her hormones telling her to check for peace of mind. She tried to imagine how she would react either way, but she could not be sure. Several things could make all of this worse for her and she was trying to weigh which one would be better. Guilt followed quickly as she tried to weigh pros and cons because she knew she was weighing a life. A life she was responsible for.

Another thirty seconds went by before she decided that no good could come from just standing there and pulling her mind apart. Anthea took a deep breath and told herself that no matter what, she would not let this get under her skin. She would stay focused and do whatever it took to get out of wherever she was alive.

Her gut told her before her eyes did and her eyes were beginning to flood with tears. Unfortunately this did slip under skin and burrowed so far down that it ached. There was no doubt about it. Anger started to boil as she continued to stare. It was a hot anger, one that only could be felt when something was taken from you.

A bang on the door nearly went unnoticed by her as she simply stared at the red stains. She closed her eyes quickly to help pull back the tears before putting her clothes back in order. It did not take her long to realize that the anger had morphed into a hollowness that made her feel unusually calm. The feeling was unusual to her, but she welcomed it as it was keeping her from crumpling to the floor.

Anthea smoothed her clothes down once more as Pete banged on the door and yelled something she could not make out. A few seconds ticked by as she opened the door slowly to its full extent and gazed at the man that was standing there. "Let's go, Missy." His hand reached out to grab her shoulder, but she let herself react like she had wanted since she had woken up.

Her own hand met his, but she clamped her middle finger and her thumb on the pressure point that was behind his thumb. He yelped mostly in pain and she only pushed down on the nerve endings more making him bend at the knees a little. She watched him for a moment until his other arm started to reach for her. It did not take her long to maneuver herself so that she still had a hold of his hand, but was close enough to pinch another pressure point in his other arm that was located along his bicep. Both of her hands were full now, but he buckled in pain in front of her then tried to wriggle free. Her grip only tightened every time he tried to escape. "Let go of..."

His command went unfinished. She did let him go, but only so that when she kicked him in the dead center of his chest she would have balance. He toppled over and the back of his head hit the linoleum floor with a satisfying thunk to her ears. She thought she heard a crack, but convinced herself that it was only her imagination trying to overcompensate. There was a moment when she thought she might have done more damage than she intended, but soon saw his chest rise letting her know it was not as serious as she assumed.

Anyone that had just escaped their kidnapper escort would have found the nearest exit and never looked back regardless if there was nothing but desert. She did not want to flee just yet.

It was easy for her to find her way back to the room where Alexander was. He and the other man were still sitting at the table. The man was the first to notice that she had arrived and a stern look crossed his face. "Where's Pete?"

Anthea blinked at the man before she answered. "He's in the hall."

"Why is he in the hall?" He stood from the chair as he asked the apparent rhetorical question. Brushing past her shoulder, he vanished from her view, but could hear him call for Pete once before his steps quickened into a jog.

She looked at Alexander. "Guess he found Pete."

Alexander rose from his seat as the other man neared the doorway making his curses all the more audible. It was not long until she felt herself being grabbed by the arm and jerked around. The man held onto both her arms in a bruising grip that she barely winced at. His reddened face was inches from hers. "What did you do to him?"

Even if she was in pain, she gave no reaction to his question other than staring at him. He became impatient with her and tightened his grip as he shook her. "Answer me!"

As soon as she was held still again, she glared hard at him before spitting into his face. He let go immediately to wipe his face clean, but he was not done with her. His hand reared back and the back of his hand came down across her eye with such force that it made her stumble to the side. She brought a hand to her eye quickly as it was already starting to throb. It was not the first time she had been hit, but there was no getting used to the aftershock.

Anthea looked up just in time to see the man reach for her. She tried to move away, but her head was still dizzy from the hit. He grasped a handful of her hair and yanked it toward him making her back arch. There was no telling what he would have done next if Alexander's voice did not cut through the commotion. The kept his grip on her hair, but did nothing else. Alexander appeared in her vision a moment later with a disappointed expression. "Do you want this to be unpleasant?"

"Like you would refrain from hurting me." She replied, struggling against the grip on her hair. It earned her another painful yank that she only closed her eyes against.

"Who said anything about hurting you?" His voice was sweetly toned, but she could pick out the harm behind it. The harm was surely going to come to her sooner or later.

Her eyes opened again and she tried to gauge his expression. He was curious about her actions that much she could tell, but after that she knew she was only seeing what she wanted to see; rage, disappointment, and regret. She was never good at reading him and she hardly expected to be any better at it now.

Alexander took a step forward as his head tilted to one side. "What's gotten under your skin? You were perfectly fine until you came out of that bathroom."

Anthea took a deep breath to prepare herself for any possible pain that was about to be further inflicted on her scalp. She stepped back so that she was nearly pressed against the other man and quickly bent her knees so that her elbow was in direct line of his groin. Her target was hit and he let go of her immediately to nurse himself. The top and back of her head was in pain, but she ignored it as she straightened herself and stepped forward to stand inches from Alexander's face. "Your men..." Her voice was strained with the emotions she should be expressing. "They took my baby." She hissed the words and decided to not make the connection that this was the first time she had actually said 'my baby'.

"You don't have a child." Alexander laughed, moving away from her towards his chair. The man behind her groaned in pain again and was probably unhappy about being ignored. He stopped before he reached the chair and turned to face her again. "Baby? Are you telling me that you're pregnant?"

Without a moment's hesitation she charged at him and shoved him against the nearest wall, clasping her hand around his throat. "Was, you impotent man!" Her voice was nearly deafening in her own ears, not realizing how loud she had planned to yell. Before she could take the chance to press thumb into his jugular, she was grabbed around the waist and pulled away hurriedly. She made sure to at least leave scratch marks along Alexander's neck.

She was dragged to the other side of the room and stopped struggling almost at once. In this state of mind she was no match for the man that was nearly squeezing the breath out of her. Alexander was still against the wall, but had a more than a few red marks across his skin. She could not tell if he was bleeding, but she was content enough to know she got through the first few layers of skin. "You had best calm down for your own health." The man's voice said in her ear. There was no need to reply because Alexander had already started to walk towards them.

"No need to threaten her, Charlie. She knows what could happen to her." Alexander rubbed his palm over some of the scratches before moving his focus to her. "You were pregnant? That is a development." He inhaled deeply as he averted his eyes to the floor in thought. "My employer will love to hear about this."

Anthea felt a dull pain around her eye as she contorted her face in confusion. "Your employer? This is a job?"

"Oh, yes." He replied almost giddy. "At first I just thought it was some bloke I was going to have to terrorize, but when he told me to go after his girl I took the job on the spot. And then to find out it was you..." His head shook with a smile stretching his face. "I couldn't believe my luck."

Confused was no longer a strong enough word to describe her mind set. "You're doing this to Jim." It was said more to convince herself than for him to confirm, but he nodded regardless. She thought about what Alexander's people could have viewed about them wondering if she could convince him that Jim did not care enough about her, which she was sure he did not anyway. There was no way he would just drop his plans and go after her. That only happened with good men going after the damsel in distress. Not the criminal psychopath going after the damsel that put herself in distress.

There was only so much she could argue and she knew it. Trying to tell him that there was hardly connection between them was worthless. She had been staying in his home for nearly a month and before that they were practically stalking each other. Now, she was in a different country with him with no other people with them. It was futile to even consider the idea.

Anthea swallowed and turned her head to get a look at Charles. It was the one that had hauled her into the van. More than likely the one that had caused her miscarriage. The thought caused her anger to flare again and was no doubt causing a flush to color her face, but she remained calm. "Could you loosen your grip a little? It's difficult to breathe."

"What, so you can do to me what you did to Pete and Dirk? I don't think so." Charles said with a sarcastic tone.

Alexander interjected before she could try and protest. "No, she has a point. I want her conscious for this." Charles kept his grip firm for moments that seemed to last five minutes, but finally loosened and she inhaled a proper breath.

"What exactly do you need me conscious for?" She inquired turning her attention back to him.

He moved to the other side of the room where Dirk was still on his hand and knees. It was a proud moment for her, knowing that she had caused enough damage to render him immobilized for this long. "It seems you've done a real number on him."

Anthea shrugged as much as she was allowed to by her restraint. "He hit me. I thought it was fair."

"Indeed." He walked away from Dirk who sounded like he was about to begin dry heaving. "I'll be back in a moment. Need to see what you've done to Pete."

"Don't think you won't get punished." Charles said in her ear. His hand started to slide further down her front. "You say were pregnant? I'd be happy to..."

"You finish that sentence and I'll nail it to the floor." Anthea hissed, tightening her fists. She would rather be tortured than have a man, especially one of these men, try to take advantage of her.

Alexander returned with a slightly surprised look on his face. "Not bad work out there. I see those lessons did not go to waste."

Anthea refused to comment, watching him walk back over to his chair and sit down. There were many things that did not go to waste in her life that came from him, but he did not need to be told that.

"I couldn't dig up much on your new life. You certainly know how to cover your tracks." He reclined into his chair and glanced over at Dirk who had finally started to get back on his feet with some effort. "Tell me, does your new boss know how you came about all of your skills?"

"No." She answered with a laugh. "If you couldn't find me, what makes you think he would be able to find my history after I was hired?"

He nodded thoughtfully, twisting his mouth in disgust. "Hired because of what I gave you."

Her stomach twisted with nausea in response. She had hoped they would not go down that road, but he seemed to want to. All of those memories she was trying to fight off were about to be spelled out to her. A secret can only be kept so long and she wondered how long it would take for Mycroft to find out once this was all over.

"You remember when I first brought you in?" Alexander continued almost with a change of attitude. The disgust still lingered in his expression, but his eyes brightened. "You were so eager to learn it all. Willing to complete every job I gave you. Hack into Egypt's military, done. Steal from one of the most secured accounts in the Swiss bank, you walked in and out with only half a dozen men helping you from the outside and no one in that place suspected you." He shook his head as it drooped in mocked disappointment. "The best intern I ever took on and what did you do?" His head rose so he could look straight at her, but he did not continue. He only looked at her as if he was trying to make himself believe the answer he knew all too well.

Anthea shifted in Charles' grip to try and make herself more comfortable under Alexander's eyes, but it hardly helped. The last day she had ever seen him worked its way to the front of her mind. "I wanted out, you knew that." She said, breaking the few moments of tense silence. "I even told you I would get out no matter what it took."

"You did, but I expected you to come back." He replied shifting his weight to half lean on the table beside him. "A month, maybe three, and then you would be back under the roof I provided for you." His tone took on an edge towards the end of the sentence that shook her internally. "But what did I find when you didn't come back? Nothing. Not a trace of you. Like you had never existed."

She could not think of a response, so she simply stood there in an uncomfortable position and watched Dirk half crawl to the chair across from Alexander. He would be in pain for the rest of the day if not part of the next. It was still satisfying to think about.

"You are conditioned for organized crime, Anthea. Not being the secretary of the British government." Alexander almost sounded like he was trying to reason with her, but she knew it was only to mess with her mind. His tricks bounced off of her instead of sinking in to cause damage. "Is that why you're with this Moriarty? Reliving the good ole days while still working under the government's nose?" He chuckled, looking from Charles to Dirk. "Now, that would be impressive. Wouldn't you say?"

The two men said nothing or even shook their heads. They were quiet, little soldiers waiting for orders just like she used to be. Alexander always had a way of getting people to act the way he wanted them to. It was what made him so successful in his business. He could manipulate any official into doing what he wanted them to do.

That was a difference between Alexander and Jim she was comforted by. Both of them were in the same game, they just played it differently. Alexander took his time to lie, manipulate, and essentially brain wash his victims into whatever he wanted them to be. He liked having people under his thumb at all times. No one ever matched him, he would not allow it. A superiority complex mixed with an overly smug ego with his victims brought them down to the size of a tooth pick.

Alexander scanned her one last time before shifting his eyes to Charles. "Take her back."

Charles obliged almost immediately. He pushed her ahead of him and guided her back to the room that she had been in. "If you be good, he might even let you have food." Zip ties came out of one of his pockets. He bound her ankles and wrists the same way that they had been before. "But if I had done what you did, I wouldn't expect to live much longer."

She only watched him with indifference and hoped that he would leave soon so she could be left alone with her thoughts. Too much had happened within the last hours for her to process automatically. Pain was also starting to inflict her in several areas. Her eye must have been bruised and she thought it was beginning to swell. Part of her head still hurt from Dirk's grip on her hair along with the uncomfortable tension in her shoulders that came from having her hands bound behind her. The one pain that she was focusing on was the one near her abdomen. It was the only one that held any kind of significance.

He did leave after her restraints were renewed. The dim light bulb above her and the light coming from under the closed door was still the only lighting she had in this room. Only enough to make out the outline of the random objects that were keeping her company.

Anthea slouched against the wall behind her in an awkward, but mildly comfortable position. Her thoughts were slow as she considered what would be in store for her while she was here. Charles's words did not affect her, not like they were supposed to. They only fueled her further. She was going to get out of this place one way or another and she was going to get out alive.

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><p><em>AN: Well, that's how Anthea is doing so far. I hope you were entertained on some level._

_If you decide to leave a review I will greatly appreciate it. Even if it's a critical one._


	17. Chapter 17

A/N - I really can't say sorry enough because it doesn't make up for making people wait this long. Life piled on top of school and really through me off for awhile. Hopefully, I'll be done with this entire story before fall semester and I won't drop off the face of the planet for no reason. I hope this chapter is good. Don't really know if I'm completely happy with it, but who wants to be completely happy?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Sebastian had just roused himself from sleep when his phone started ringing. There were several times when this happened, so he was more or less used to it. He rolled over still groggy from sleep and grabbed at the cell phone on the end table. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust correctly in order to read the name on the brightened screen. His eyes cleared and he could see that it was an unknown number. Many people he kept in contact with had unknown numbers, so he answered sleepily. "Hello?"<p>

"Ah, Mr. Moran. Did I wake you?" The voice in his ear was familiar, but it did not quite add up with anyone he could think of on the spot.

"Yes, in fact." He sighed, rubbing his fingers into his eyes. "But since you called, what can I do for you?"

"You can meet us in the restaurant in the hotel." The man said authoritatively. "We have reservations at ten."

The line went dead once the man had stated his requirements. Sebastian just looked at the phone before dropping it on the bed. He sat up wondering exactly what time it was. There was a clock on his phone, but he did not feel like straining his eyes to see it again. After blinking a considerable amount of time, he could finally see the clock on the wall adjacent from him. It read 8:45, but the curtains drawn around the windows made it impossible for him to tell if it was there was daylight or not. Surely, if there was daylight, he did not mean ten in the morning.

Slipping out of bed regrettably, he carefully lifted part of one curtain away from the window so as to not blind himself if the sun was still up. To his, not entirely, surprise, he found the sun rising instead of setting. His window faced the east and every time the sun rises, it raises him as well if the curtains are not drawn.

Sebastian did not believe that he was being asked for so early in the morning, so he decided to call Jim to see if he had had a similar offer. He collapsed back onto the bed and pressed speed dial two. Three rings later his call was answered with, "What do you want?"

"Jim, I was wondering..." He was broke off unexpectedly because of a yawn that decided its presence should be known. "Wondering if you had received an invitation this morning."

"Yes, I did. You'll be joining us." Jim asked his mind only half paying attention to conversation.

He nodded sleepily at the phone then shook his head thinking he probably looked like a fool nodding at nothing in particular. "Don't tell me this is ten in the morning."

Jim scoffed on the other side of the line. "You really should get out more often."

"I was just hoping I could sleep a little while longer." Sebastian claimed looking at the comfortable bed that he had been laying on no more than ten minutes ago.

"Get ready." Jim replied before hanging up.

He examined his phone for a moment before dropping it next to him. One hand rubbed down his face as he attempted to wake himself up more. "This had better be worth it." His mumbles were left behind as he climbed into a shower that replaced his desire to curl up in bed again with a normal energy that people felt after they had been awake long enough.

Dried and dressed with a gun stashed in one of his front pockets, Sebastian made his way to the restaurant in the hotel ignoring anyone trying to offer him a drink or food. Any other time, he would have taken it, but this particular job seemed to demand his full attention.

He scanned the tables that were in view and caught the sight of a familiar looking man who was sitting at the back with a cup of tea in hand. At first he was unsure to sit with the man, who turned out to be Mycroft, while his boss was still being expected. It seemed right to always let him enter first during meetings of any kind that Sebastian had to attend to. Everything about the situation they were in made him uncomfortable. If Anthea was only a random woman, then there would hardly be a fuss. Jim would probably just let whoever took her have her, but something in him seemed determined to keep searching for her.

Jim had walked up beside him soon after dressed in his usual best. "I hope this is fun."

He gave his boss a sideways glance wondering exactly what he expected from this. Not a moment of hesitation was let by when Jim entered the restaurant while he walked a few steps behind him. They reached the table and Jim took the seat directly across from Mycroft leaving the one between them open for him.

Mycroft looked at his watch and raised an eyebrow. "Right on time."

"Tell me we're not going to talk about the weather next." Jim complained, waving off a waiter that had not even reached the table.

Sebastian turned his chair to face the usual opposing force, but now turned ally and stretched out his legs nearly in the middle of the walkway. If anyone expected manners, they were sorely mistaken. His gun dug into the side of his leg, but he ignored it.

Mycroft looked as if he might just lose his temper for a fleeting moment, but it smoothed over before he spoke. "I assume that if we want to remedy this situation, then we may want to work with each other." The cup that was in his hand was set in the saucer as he spoke.

Jim blinked purposely at the statement. An amused smirk threatened to break the calm exterior. "I don't think so."

"And why not?" There was a subtle scowl somewhere in the lines of Mycroft's face, but he nearly remained in a neutral emotion.

"I'd rather not incriminate myself more." Jim folded his hands on the table's surface.

Sebastian turned his head to look at him with a blatant astounded expression. "Are you joking? You're worried about incrimination now?"

"Shut up, Sebastian." Jim snapped without looking at him.

Mycroft looked between them and spoke calmly. "If this is going to be resolved quickly then we have better chances…"

"Better chances don't matter." Jim interrupted with a heavy sigh. His eyes moved away from Mycroft for a moment to glance at the table in front of him.

Sebastian nearly got the first word in as he started to turn and face Jim, but Mycroft beat him to it. "Are you letting your selfishness get in the way of finding Anthea, someone who you obviously have a soft spot for?" He had leaned forward and lowered his voice as if they were being listened to.

Jim narrowed his eyes and visibly stiffened simultaneously. A chord was struck somewhere inside him and he did what he could to limit his response knowing it would only raise more unwanted questions from Mycroft and more than a few from Sebastian.

A strained silence settled around them, save for the conversation of other people sitting around them. Each of them looked like they wanted to say something, but no one risked being the first. Any outsider would have probably compared the scene to an old western when the hero and the villain had their last showdown, but it was hard to guess who was who.

In a swift motion Jim stood and slid his hand in his trouser pocket. "You can have copies of what I've found. No more of this 'working together'." He only allowed enough time for Mycroft to register what he said and then stalked off towards the exit looking down at his phone instructing someone to send the copies to Mycroft's room.

Sebastian followed a few seconds later after glancing at Mycroft who clearly had not expected things to play out this way. He caught up with Jim just as the lift opened and they road in silence. They reached the floor and Jim slipped past the still opening doors too impatient to wait. He opened the room door and headed straight for his desk.

Closing the door behind him, Sebastian noticed a slip of folded paper on the floor. He bent down to retrieve it then followed Jim into sitting room. "Hey, did you drop this?"

Jim turned to look at what was in his hand before returning back to his desk. "No." His answer was short mainly because the anger had not dissipated yet.

The paper in his hand was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was not like hotels to just leave pieces of paper around. Looking at it with more interest he saw that there was something written on it. He unfolded it expecting to see a thank you note from the hotel, but was something much less than pleasantly surprised when he read it. As much as he wanted to, he could not take his eyes off of the words. His jaw tightened and the hand that was holding the paper tightened slightly.

_It seems Anthea lost her little bundle of joy. I hope that's not too upsetting._

"Well, what is it?" Jim had turned around at some point and was frustrated by Sebastian's lack of focus. He thought he had made himself clear the other day, but it seemed not to have sunken in.

Sebastian forcibly tore his eyes from the paper to look at his boos. "You need to read this." His arm stretched out towards Jim, offering him the paper. Any other time he would have just taken it to him to save an argument, however his legs would not move.

He glared at Sebastian as he stood and started over to him. "This had better be good or I'll use you as a gun rack." As soon as he was in reach, he snatched the paper out of the outstretched hand and began to read. At first he did nothing just read over the words and then raised his head to stare into space. Nothing in him reacted. Not a muscle tensed or even twitched. There was hardly even a flare of fire behind his eyes. Everything seemed to be normal with him until he made for the door.

The door to the hallway swung open with unneeded force and Sebastian had to follow him. If Jim was going to do anything rash, he would need to be there to clean it up. He followed him to the stairwell without question. The elevator would be too confining for him at this point. Two flights of stairs later, they were entering the floor below them. Jim made a bee line to a door about twenty feet from the stairs and banged on it with a closed fist. When no answer came after a few moments Jim took a deep breath. "Mycroft!" His voice was loud enough for the people occupying the room behind them to hear, but it got someone's attention inside because the door eased open.

A lack of patience seemed to be taking over Jim because he pushed the door open to its full extent making the man behind it fall back into the wall. Sebastian entered as soon as the door was cleared and looked at the young man who had gotten in Jim's way. "Be happy he didn't kill you." He ventured into the rest of the room and found Mycroft sitting at a desk nearly identical to the one in Jim's room and his boss towering over him.

Mycroft was holding the note in his hands has he looked over it. His face was passive save for the fact that his eyes had yet to blink since Sebastian had walked in the room. Jim leaned over placing one hand on the back of Mycroft's chair and one on the desk so that he was level with him. "How interested are you now?"

Silence fell over the room. One of the security men cleared his throat to try and break the tension, but Mycroft held up his hand. "I want everyone out."

"But, sir..." The man was cut off when Mycroft shifted his gaze from the paper to him. It seemed everyone that had any kind of power had a look that could frighten anyone.

"I won't tell you again." Another slight hesitation from the man, but he left taking four others with him.

Sebastian took a moment to survey the room and found that copies of Jim's work, or lack thereof, on Hart was scattered about the room. It seemed that they had started almost immediately, but that was no surprise.

Jim had moved away from him and started to pick up things around the desk to inspect them even if he was disinterested. He needed something to do. If he remained stationary then he would start to feel anxious and further fuel the unwanted feeling stirring around in him. It was a mixture of anger and a feeling of being useless. One thing he never was and never sought out to be was useless. It made him feel without power, control, and small.

Mycroft had leaned back into his chair and was still looking at the note hardly paying attention to the disruption going on around his desk. He took a breath before he spoke in a nonchalant tone. "So there was a baby?"

Jim only picked up another object which happened to be a letter opener. "Can you try and ask questions that we don't already have answers to?"

"You knew about this?" Mycroft asked, removing his gaze from the note to the man he was talking to. His voice took on a slight edge when he reached the last word.

"How would I know about that? " Another question to answer a question. Jim's patience was slipping, but he remained composed physically.

"She's been living under your watch for the past month and half." Mycroft stood and looked as if he would take a step toward Jim then thought better of it.

Jim did not flinch, but did finally look at the other man with a mixture of humor and growing frustration. "Doesn't mean that I sat there and studied her. I do have work to do."

"Fair enough, but I still stand by that you must have noticed something." He had taken on the air as if he was dealing with a teenager that was denying something they know they did. Mycroft had moved to stand next to the desk to be opposite of Jim, who was still holding the letter opener.

"I didn't know. I found out two minutes before you did. Technically speaking, Sebastian found out first." Jim pointed the letter opener at Sebastian when he mentioned him. His tone had become lighthearted and the next phase would not be pretty if things did not smooth over fast.

Mycroft held an impatient expression and opened his mouth to speak, but Sebastian cut him off knowing if they kept on like this all three of them would end up dead by one of the other. "Could we focus on what's actually important here? As entertaining as this is, she is still missing and I take it at least one of the two of you would like to find and recover her."

The real question was which one wanted to find her more. He knew there was something festering inside Jim that made him act unlike himself at times, however, he could not complain. It was not like having Anthea around was making him worse. If anything it was just a side of Jim he never thought he would have to learn to grow accustomed to.

Mycroft on the other hand obviously held some affection for her. Whether it was out of obligation or actual emotion, Sebastian could not tell. Either way, if having him around would help find her quicker, he was not going to object to them working together only once, but they would have to learn to have an actual discussion without flaring the anger of one or the other.

He watched the two of them stare at each other for a prolonged moment. The words had sunk in, that much was certain, but no reaction had ensued. Silence was the only response and it was starting to sink into the rest of the room almost stretching it.

Needing to break the tension that was building, Sebastian inhaled a breath loudly. "Did I strike that much of a nerve with both of you?" He pulled out the gun he had tucked into the back of his jeans and tossed it onto the sofa. An unspoken guarantee that he would remain unarmed for the duration of this exchange.

"Fine." Mycroft was the one to speak first. "We've gone over what you have so far and it's next to nothing, as you said." He looked over at the desk scattered with papers. "I'll ask again. Have you considered your own affiliates?" The same question had been asked the day before, but Jim had dismissed it.

"It is possible, Boss. Even if it's not recommended that someone go after you, people still try. This would be the only successful one." Sebastian took an unoffered chair away from his gun. Most of the etiquette had been thrown out of the room when they entered, so he was hardly being rude even if he wanted to be.

Jim's jaw tightened as he seemed to look around the room. It was not an option he considered as a joke and now he was supposed to take it seriously. He did not make a note of who he had offended or inconvenienced over the years and he was not going to start now. If it made things move at a smoother pace and if it would help move things along, he would agree. "Maybe."

"Alright then. Anyone you can think of that might go to these lengths?" Mycroft moved around to the desk chair as he talked and sat down in order to take down any names.

"No." His answer was short and aggravated. He hated playing along with other people if it was not for fun. The letter opener was dropped back onto the desk making everyone feel a little more comfortable.

Sebastian slouched in his chair with a deep sigh. It was going to be a long afternoon and possibly night if things stayed like they were. "How about anyone that's wronged you?" He rolled his own eyes as soon as he heard the question leave his mouth.

Jim laughed once. "You really want that list? Most people on that list are buried or never found again." He finally strode across the room and took a seat near the window.

"You're both very helpful." Mycroft added sarcastically, resting his arms on the desk surface with a pen being fidgeted with in one hand.

Sebastian rubbed a hand across his face feeling the frustration start to bubble up under his skin. At least everyone was being civil. He could not ask for more than that. "What if that's the point? You snuffed someone and now someone else wants to get even."

Mycroft looked to Jim who was staring at the floor. "Does that ring any bells?"

"I don't have a complete list at my fingertips nor do I want to disclose those names to him." Jim's head motioned in the direction of Mycroft, but continued to look at the floor. "I like playing close to the collar, but as you know, Sebastian, this is not a game." His eyes moved to the sniper to glare at him.

"What do you recommend then? Sit and wait for an idea to come to you? We've been doing that for over a month." He replied, leaning forward in his chair a little. Enough time had passed for him to know where the line was with Jim and knew when to challenge him without getting himself killed.

Jim held his breath for a moment then stood, straightening his jacket. "Fine, but I'll do this part on my own. No lingering eyes." He left with that leaving Sebastian in Mycroft's room.

"Aren't you going with him?" Mycroft asked curiously.

Sebastian shook his head slowly and suddenly felt the need for a cigarette. "Oh, no. He literally means on his own. I've seen people tossed out a window for not listening to that little bit of information."

He saw Mycroft blink a few times before looking down at his desk again. "Stay if you like."

"I intend to and since I am, I'm going to need fags." Sebastian stood and started for the door.

"I won't allow smoking in here." Mycroft said blankly.

He kept walking and reached the door. "I'll open a window."

The door propped open behind him to save him from having to knock and he automatically looked down the hall to see if his boss was lingering. No sign of him and he was not surprised. More than likely, Jim had returned to his room in order to think in peace and do whatever he needed to do to at least appear like he was cooperating.

Sebastian took the elevator back to the floor his room was on. The pack of cigarettes was somewhere and he was trying to recall exactly where they were. It was odd for him to think he was going to voluntarily spend time with Mycroft Holmes when he could easily lie in his bed and go right back to sleep. As appealing as the thought was, he knew that he would only be roughly woken as soon as Jim decided to return. It would not be worth the trouble.

Once inside he found the pack on the dresser and pick up another gun. His other one was presumably still lying on the sofa a few floors down. Anything could happen these days and he felt it necessary to be ready.

Returning to Mycroft's room, nothing had changed. The security men were still away, Mycroft was still at the desk, and the gun was still on the sofa. He thought it was a little odd that it remained there, but shrugged it off as a sign of good faith and made is way to the nearest window to open it. "You really think it was one of his unsatisfied clients or something?"

"I think it's more possible than just a random individual. If it was she would have been found by now." Mycroft did not look like it, but he sounded worn.

"Hm." He placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. "And I wouldn't be running around after a mad man." After a thought he continued. "Well, nearly as much."

"I've been curious about that." Mycroft said thoughtfully as he looked at him. "He does seem to be taking this rather personally."

All he could offer in return was a shrug as he recounted the past twenty-four hours. "You have as much of an idea as I do. He's been different for a while." When he thought about it more, 'a while' probably lined up to around the time Anthea first appeared.

"You're closest to him, in a manner of speaking. Any guesses?" Mycroft pressed the topic and he had every reason to. Anthea had clearly not given him any details on her life lately.

Sebastian rolled his eyes as he took another drag. "That part is easy. The hard part is figuring out why."

Everyone that had been witnessed to Jim and Anthea had their assumptions, but no one knew for sure. How could they when those two did not know? He remembered when she was cleaning his gun and had started rambling about her situation with Jim. It was much the same with him expect more outbursts than rambles. They both seemed to bounce off one another in a good way when they were together, but apart they were equally frustrated and confused. Sebastian basically lived there, so he had had the privilege to see both.

"I did ask him once. He never gave me a real answer." Mycroft had his chin propped up by one hand.

He nodded with a humored smile. "Did you expect him to?"

"No, I guess not." A sigh came from the other part of the room. "I just wanted some insight and neither of them wants to cooperate."

"She doesn't seem like the type to cooperate outside of work." Sebastian commented, flicking the finished cigarette out the window. He closed the window and turned to find he had Mycroft's full attention. "Don't expect me to tell you anything. I choose life."

"All I want to know is if she's safe there." Mycroft replied in earnest as he moved a few papers around the desk.

He could see where the other man was coming from, but his common sense did not seem to be working. She was living under the roof of one of the most guarded men in Britain along with one of the best marksmen in the world. The only way she was not safe was if she accidently cut herself.

After settling himself in one corner of the couch, he moved the gun to rest on the table in front of him. "I assure you, she's safe there. Everywhere else is the problem."

Mycroft nodded in agreement, but did not say anything. He continued to look over whatever other information had been given to him and Sebastian picked up a stack of files he was sure he had looked over half a dozen times before.

This stack contained any references to 'Hart'; surnames, companies, firms, independent businesses, even films. It was a global search for anything and everything and yet nothing had yielded any results. Everyone hoped that more clues would appear once they started digging, but it only lead them to dead ends and Mycroft did not seem to be doing any better.

Several long moments of almost silence passed by with the only noise coming from papers being moved. It had almost become peaceful, but it was interrupted. A forceful knock on the door was the cause of disturbance and Sebastian recognized the knock almost instantly. He made his way to the door and narrowly escaped his boss's path as he breezed by without hesitation.

Jim rounded a corner into a room that Sebastian had failed to take note of and he soon heard the sounds of what he assumed was a fax machine. He and Mycroft only stared at the doorway as the fax machine continued to print whatever Jim had obviously ordered. Soon, he emerged again and dropped the new stack of paper in front of Mycroft. "Janelle Hart."

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><p><em>AN - And here we are again. I hope it wasn't too disappointing and I hope to have the next few up before August strikes._

_Authors always say reviews help and we really mean it. Don't really know why. I suppose it's proof that people are actually reading and we have reason to continue._

_Anyway, review if you feel I deserve it._


	18. Chapter 18

A/N - Hi! I'm doing a little bit better with updating. This one is kind of short I think, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>"Sleep well?" The voice was distant and was followed by the near slamming of a door.<p>

Anthea opened her eyes to a nearly dark and blurry room. For a moment she allowed herself to think she was back in Jim's house lying on a soft bed instead of hard floor. It was the scene she had been dreaming of before whoever it was interrupted her. She was surprised she was not dreaming of her own bed, but she was too mentally exhausted to overthink it.

"You're still alive, right?" The voice was clearer this time and Anthea recognized it.

Squeezing her eyes shut once before opening them, she was reminded that one of her eyes were bruised and slightly swollen. Not enough to swell shut, but enough for her to notice that it was a little puffy. Her back was pressed against the wall as she lay on her side. The muscles ached from being on the floor. A bruise was sure to form along her hip and shoulder. There was an unwelcomed crick in her neck, but there was nothing she could do to help it. She angled her head disturbing the crick to look up at Charles who was barely lit from the light behind him. "Like it matters."

Charles crossed his arms over his chest. "It does actually. Our boss would be fuming if he knew you had died somehow."

"Don't I feel cared for…" She mumbled, turning her head back so that the uncomfortable pain in her neck did not bother her so much. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to feed you, so be nice." He walked back towards the door and picked up a bag that had been dropped by it. "Then you'll get a visit."

A soft laugh that she did not expect echoed through the room. "That doesn't surprise me." By the time she had pushed herself into a sitting position; he had returned and dropped the bag between them. "How long have I been asleep?"

The glint of the knife that she did not see before caught her eye. Before, she would have been concerned by it, but now she knew it was only to loosen the zip ties around her wrists. He cut them and she automatically pulled them around to inspect her wrists and wincing at her shoulders that had not moved from their position for a while. No more damage than from before.

"I'd say about nine hours or so. It's early in the afternoon." Charles opened the bag and pulled out a pack of crackers that were tossed at her. "Enjoy."

Anthea watched them land next to her bent legs and slide next to her hip. Her mind was still processing that it was the next day. It was not like she expected to be found instantly, but her hope still sank. She knew the crackers would not do much for hunger that was constricting her stomach, but it was better than nothing.

During the hours she assumed had been during the night that she was left alone, she spent the majority of the time trying to figure a way out to keep her mind off of what might be done to her and along with the sense of loss that she was not sure what to do with. There was hardly an emotional attachment for her, but she guessed that the hormones must be the reason for her slight despair. She was thankful that she had been able to control whatever mood swings may or may have not occurred during that time. A few minor flares of this or that emotion, but nothing was able to breech the surface. She was not able to pinpoint exactly when she had fallen asleep.

"Eat up, missy." Charles ordered from her side. He had propped himself against the wall to eat what looked like a sandwich. "Be happy you get that after your little stunt yesterday."

"I am happy." As happy as she was able to feel. She nibbled at the first cracker feeling unsure of how her stomach would react to a sudden rush of food. "How's Pete?" The last time she saw him he was lying on the floor unconscious.

Charles swallowed his bite before answering. "Had to ship him out. You did quite a bit of damage."

"Just you and Dirk then for henchmen?" She was almost positive that she had rendered him barren with the blow to the groin. The thought made her smile briefly.

"He's bedridden with severely swollen jewels. Makes me glad I caught you when I did." He sounded a little too pleased with himself, but she neglected to look at him.

It took her longer than necessary to finish the crackers. Her stomach felt like it wanted to twist into a knot, but it never did. Charles had impatiently waited on her with frustrated sighs that almost echoed around the room. Before he left, he rebound her wrists behind her back. She did not see a reason for it, but after yesterday, she guessed someone was paranoid that she could do just about anything to injure someone. Truth be told, she felt too worn to want to injure anyone today.

He returned shortly with Alexander in tow. "And how are we today, Anthea?" Charles returned to his position against the wall. Alexander unfolded a chair he had carried in with him.

"Phenomenal." She replied, pulling against the restraints on her wrists trying to move them around to a more suitable position.

The chair turned to face the door and he sat backwards in it with an arm propped on the chair back. "Good to hear, but I'm guessing you're wondering why I'm here."

"A little, yeah." Anthea gave up on the zip ties and did her best to rest her back against the wall.

"I'm here to help you." He gave her a charming smile that she knew to be honest, but only honest with whatever intentions he actually had.

She tilted her head at him slightly and arched an eyebrow. "Help me? Why?"

"I don't want to actually hurt you, but I will. This way, we can help each other." How many times had she heard him use that friendly tone with some potential client?

"What way?" There was not a doubt in her mind that he was lying, but she might as well play along just to see what he wanted.

Alexander looked pleased to see that she was cooperating somewhat. "I'll help you out of this if you tell me what you know about Jim's corporation."

She glared at him for a moment waiting for something else to come along in the supposed deal. When nothing followed, she responded. "An odd eye for an eye deal? I tell you something and you 'help' me?" Anthea leaned her head back against the wall and wish she could have put air quotes around the word help. "You get the short end. I don't know anything."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "You know something. Can't live under someone's roof for that long and not know something."

"I know plenty, but I don't know anything about what you're looking for." She tried to reposition her legs even though the zip ties restrained her. Everything was slowly becoming stiff again.

"How do you know what I'm looking for?" He leaned forward so that his chest pressed against the back of the chair.

Her head tilted to one side as she blinked thinking that he must have forgotten what all she knew about him and how well trained she was. "Jim is competition for you. You want his jobs, the clients, possibly even personnel. Take those and you have control instead of being second best. Taking less money for the same jobs."

His eyes narrowed at her before he looked at Charles and nodded his head once.

It was obvious why Charles remained near her, but she never seriously considered he would be used. The toe of his shoe came into contact with her side thankfully just below her ribs. Her breath caught in her throat before it was forced out with a wretch causing her to fold in on herself a little. For a moment she thought she would vomit as she tried to inhale a deeper breath than her body would allow at the time, but she never did.

"Start being nice, Anthea. It can only help you at this point." Alexander said calmly.

Another few ragged breaths and she was able to sit up straight again. "Help me…. You're… joking." The words nearly came out broken, but she was able to keep her voice steady and fight off the pain in her side.

"Yes, help you. Why would I joke about that?" He looked genuinely curious.

She gave him a half smile before taking one last deep breath through her nose. "I wouldn't tell you anything that would or would not help me if it concerned James Moriarty."

"And why is that? Not like he's known for his compassion, so why protect him when he's not coming for you." It looked like he was nearly aching not to rub the facts in her face to prove her efforts wrong.

"I'm not a rat." Part of the truth was better than none of it. All of the truth was questionable. She did not know exactly why she felt compelled to keep quiet on the matter other than not becoming a rat. Maybe she felt she owed him that at least. Maybe she was just too good of person at heart. Maybe it was something far scarier than what she could imagine, but whatever was fueling the compulsion would not go out quietly.

Alexander pulled away from the back of the chair and placed his hands on top of the chair back. "You're not a rat?"

"Yes, I'm not a rat." Anthea sighed, but cringed as her bruised muscles stretched. "If you didn't notice, I didn't have any authorities knocking down your door the moment I was out or even after I found my present job."

Silence settled for a moment. They both looked at each other, but it lacked the tension that these sorts of pauses held. She was only trying to prove a point and was waiting on him to accept it for the truth that it was. He knew she could have sent anyone after him, but she never had that intention after leaving. The only thing she did was erase her history and cover her tracks so he could not find her.

Another moment passed and he still said nothing, so she decided to. "I won't do that to Jim either. You can stop this odd interrogation."

He smiled softly at her. "Seems your morals are getting in the way at the wrong time." Another nod in Charles direction and a swift kick to her hip was initiated. "You've been on the other side for too long. Such a waste."

Her eyes widened at the pain and she curled away from the direction the blow came from. In all her life, since she could remember, she never cried out if she was in pain. A muffled groan or hiss, she allowed, but never succumbed to vocally acknowledging how much pain she was actually in. She could not be sure, but it felt like something may have been fractured. Hoping it was just from the brute force she pushed the pain to the back of her mind for the time being and sat up for the second time, looking directly at Alexander and shrugged.

"Want me to take care of her? She won't tell us anything." Charles asked expecting the order.

Alexander shook his head and declined the suggestion.

"It'd be easy, like squishing a bug." He pushed again and this time she could feel him looking at her.

The feeling did not last long. In fact, she wanted to thank him for his use of words. A bug. That was all she needed to remind her. Everyone that worked close enough to Mycroft or anyone higher than him was given a bug to keep on their person at all times only to be activated in extreme emergencies. It provided a homing signal so they could be found and contacted security back in London.

Mycroft had suggested that it be placed in her phone, but she persuaded him that it would reckless to put it in something that could be destroyed and there was no doubt that her phone had been smashed to pieces by now. They did find something more suitable; an earring. The only problem was that she would not be able to activate it with them in the room.

"No. Instructions were to keep her alive for now and so she'll stay that way." Alexander's tone had turned more forceful and she could just make out Charles's expression turn slightly wary.

The visit was not over yet and there was no way to convince them to leave the room before they were ready, so she decided to try and get a little information about why she was being held here. "You said you took this job when you found out that you weren't going after Jim, but after me. Why?"

"Interesting question. I didn't even know his name until well after the job had started. Just a face. When I discovered it was the man robbing me of well-paying jobs, I became more interested. Then you come along and it's better than my birthday." He pushed himself up from the chair to stand. "They didn't want me to go after him because they wanted him to suffer the same way."

"Suffer? Really?" Anthea felt like she could precisely picture the expression on Jim's face if he heard that.

"I don't know anything about the guy other than his career." The chair was pushed away to the side. "But as far as my boss is concerned, it is ideal. Revenge to put it plainly."

She blinked a few times as the word 'revenge' rolled around in her mind. There were several reasons that someone would want revenge on Jim, but surely going after him would be more effective. "What kind of revenge?"

He walked over to stand at the end of her feet and crouched down to her level. "I'm glad you asked. You see, your…" The pause was accompanied by a loss for words. "What is he to you anyway?"

Fighting the impulse to roll her eyes, she replied with the first word that came to her. "Company." Now, she wanted to thank Jim for using that word yesterday.

"Right, company." His weight shifted a little before he continued. "Anyway, your 'company' upset my boss a few years ago."

"He upsets a lot of people." Anthea chimed in, feeling like she ought to be sarcastic when she could. It would make this visit a little more pleasant.

Instead of acknowledging that she said anything, he carried on. "He killed someone very special to my boss and they feel that it wasn't deserved. So, here we are. And to quote you from earlier, an eye for an eye deal." He smiled at her. "Seems my boss and I get everything squared away at the same time."

She stayed quiet and only looked back at him with a blank expression. It was not new information to her that Jim had people killed nearly on a weekly basis, but now she was on the receiving end of the gun and things looked a little different. Death was not what concerned her. It was inevitable, so why drive yourself insane with paranoia? What concerned her was the way she might die. That consisted of nothing but variables and Alexander could very well use most of those variables before she took her last breath.

"I'll leave you be now so you can ponder what I've told you." Alexander rose and walked out of the room followed by Charles who picked up the chair along his way.

Anthea slouched against the wall as the door closed and waited until she could no longer hear footsteps in the hall. A few more seconds past just as a precaution and then she started to stretch and shimmy her arms so that her hands could slip under her bottom. The zip ties cut into her skin the more she moved, but the pain would be worth it. Maneuvering would have been slightly easier if her ankles were not bound, but she could not complain because she was still making progress.

Just before she thought the plastic would scrape away a few more layers of skin, her hands slid suddenly under her thighs and the pressure around her wrists lessened. She rested for a moment to listen for anyone coming near the door. Nothing. Leaning forward and stretching her back almost painfully she was able to slip her legs out from the loop of her arms. Taking a second to congratulate herself, she smiled into the dim room as she reached her hands to her right ear and unhooked the stud earring before pushing the clasp back onto the post again. That was all it took to activate the bug.

The joy of her small accomplishment made her feel like laughing, but she held it in and opted to lay down properly for a change. She lay on her back so that her sides would have a break from the beating they received from the floor. Her wrists were held up in front of her face so she could try and look at the damage she had done. There definitely a few trickles of blood running down her arms, but nothing that looked too serious. She thought about lying her hands against her stomach, but knew the traces of blood would be noticed the next time someone came through that door.

After a few minutes, she would sit up and loop her arms around her legs again then carefully slide her arms backwards until they were in their previous position. As uncomfortable as it was, she was not going to give away the slightest hint that she had done something. The new injuries she could blame on struggling in her sleep. All she had to do was wait and hope.

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><p><em>AN - I can tell you we're getting nearer__ to the end though. At least four more chapters left. Maybe one or two more._

_Review if you like! I like them and therefore like you._


	19. Chapter 19

A/N - Guess I'll say sorry again. Had old friends come into town and I wanted to be with them as much as possible before they left again. About the same length as the last one. Apologies. Hopefully a little look in Jim's head will make up for it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Jim had retreated to his room when late evening settled in. After explaining his find to Mycroft and Sebastian he felt emptied of most of his energy. He collapsed onto the bed as soon as he was able to reach it, but never sought sleep. Watching the sunlight coming from the window fade off of the ceiling helped his mind relax. Everything moved around in his thoughts at a rapid pace that he thought he may break under it one day. Being able to see time go by provided a sort of tether to hold his mind in place.<p>

As much as his body craved for rest, he would not surrender to it. The more it relaxed the heavier his eyes became. Sleep was not an option now. It had not been since Anthea had been taken off the street. There was an uncertainty behind sleep now that he was far from comfortable with. He could not predict what he would see when his subconscious mind took over.

The last of the daylight had slipped away from his room and he was left in darkness. He risked closing his eyes to listen to the silence that was around him. Stillness had always been a problem. Being stagnant meant there was no progression and even if it was helping him relax, he still felt the compulsion to disturb it. Something to disturb the peace and the order that had settled around him. It was a burden he decided to inflict upon the world. To share his need for disorder was the only way he could release some of the energy that built up in him.

Unfortunately, he had lain still for too long and had slipped into sleep. There was a moment when he realized he had relaxed passed his desired goal, but by the time it had occurred to him, his body had already decided for him. Sleep seemed to cradle him before he could react making the tension in his body release, but did nothing for the instability of his mind.

Nothing but black. That was all he could see and it did little to tell him if he was really asleep or still awake. It resembled a void that just held him suspended wherever he was in silence. However, it did not take long for this void to be interrupted. A faint sound echoed through the darkness like a heartbeat and then another before a familiar scream of his name pulled him violently from sleep. Anthea's voice seemed like it filled the room instead of his head. He was barely aware that he had sat straight up in bed and was more concentrated on the pain in his jaw. At some point his jaw had locked and stayed that way. Taking a moment to forcibly relax his body, he was able to stand up and wander around the room as held his head in his hands.

Needing to focus on the present instead of what happened, he opted for thinking about Mrs. Janelle Hart. Namely the reason all of this was happening. Jim had forgotten about her since the incident. It happened years ago before he was in reach of his present stature. Threats had been received, but they were never executed.

Mrs. Janelle Hart was dead. She died soon after his business started to blossom into the empire it was now. A former business partner had told him about her and said that she would be a promising employee in the long run. Very skilled, never caused trouble, learned quickly, and never had to be told something twice. She probably would have climbed up the ladder to a high ranking position if she had not made a mistake.

It was not long after Jim had hired her that he found out that her and her husband had been having financial issues. He had been laid off and she could not seem to hold a job because of one reason or another. Janelle became desperate and had landed in Jim's employment with hesitation. Jim had offered to fill her bank account after a few months, but she denied it thinking it was too risky.

Months went by and she had proven to be reliable even after her finances had evened out and she was no longer in danger of losing everything she had. Greed, however, seemed to take hold of her. Janelle asked for more jobs, overtime, anything extra she could do, but Jim denied her most of those requests. Every few weeks she would ask for more and would be shot down. She was the nearly the highest paid employee and her constant search for more money caused Jim to inquire as to why.

He kept an eye on her for months as to not alert her. If she found out, she would have more than likely changed her habits and then her motivation would have never been found out. The subtle tactic was strenuous and time consuming, but he soon found out why she wanted all this extra work.

One of his assistants had it brought to his attention that certain files that held confidential things had gone missing like codes, passwords, and names. Nothing was ever misplaced in Jim's establishment, so he knew that the only suspicious person had to have a hand in his missing property. His men were sent to ransack her home and they found missing files. He ordered her death immediately and she was shot in her home.

Business went on as usual after that save for the random threatening notes or phone calls Jim received from her grieving husband. It never bothered him and he never sought to do anything about it. The threats proved to be empty in a short time and then the threats stopped. He assumed her husband had come to his senses or had simply died.

Years had passed. Five years to be exact never minding the date because he could care less to keep up with everyone's death day. All this time had passed and now something was being done about Mrs. Janelle Hart's death. Jacob Hart must have put everything he had into this plan over the last five years.

Mycroft had set to work finding out whatever he could about Jacob Hart and where he might be, but they knew he would be far from where Anthea was being held. In any case, when they found him, he could confess the location before he was dealt with. He was probably hidden away somewhere out of harm's immediate reach like a coward. If you wanted to play the game, you must put yourself in the same danger. That was a rule amongst criminals. The more you risk, the greater the gain. Not to mention it was far more fun.

Jim had lost count how many times he had circled the room, but his thoughts detoured into another topic that had not really been addressed. A baby. Anthea had been pregnant and told no one. It palpably jostled Mycroft and Sebastian, but Jim had refused to think about it. He had focused on the fact that someone else had hurt her more than just dragging her into a van. The woman was strong, but he did not know how strong. He had seen people break under the loss of a child and never understood why. Now that it was his turn to supposedly feel whatever they felt, there was nothing.

Collapsing into a chair, he tried to picture a child in front of him. Not one to use as a game piece, but one that he would be saddled with. He could see an infant playing in his living room with a number of toys. The quiet innocence that it would radiate as it laughed and wandered around the room fueled by its own curiosity.

Any normal person would have their heart swell and eyes tear up as they imagined what it would be like to have a child of their own. Jim had never adapted to normalcy. He felt nothing towards the image. It was a small, vulnerable, helpless person that had no idea what the world could to them. What was so special about it? If a child was to be anything, it was to be a pupil, one to be educated and skilled in whatever ways the mentor would choose. There was nothing he could do with a child other than teach them and guide them into taking over his business once he was gone. Nothing more.

Jim spent the better part of the night in that chair thinking about everything that lead up to this point. Meeting Anthea by accident, the pursuit of her and her of him, the sniper that had tipped them off, the weeks she had spent in his home, and finally the trip here in Chile. If he really wanted to be childish he could blame everything on Mycroft. After all, he had sent her instead of notifying him in another way.

He hardly noticed the night starting to lighten as dawn approached. The morning flood of cars rolled down the streets alongside pedestrians that opted for walking to their destinations. People were walking down the hall in groups to attend whatever event or meeting they were scheduled for today. Someone had tripped near his door and uttered a curse. A faint smell of coffee slipped into his room and he realized the reason for their curse. Coffee was the fuel for many generations and some could hardly function properly without it.

The hallway quieted again and he was left with the hum of cars passing by. Any other morning he would have slept through them. It was a sort of lull that reminded him of London. He would have been back there by now if it was not for this incident.

A click from somewhere in his room caused him to focus on what was going on around him. It did not take long for him to realize that it was the door unlocking and the handle being turned. As much as he wished for good news, he figured it was Sebastian coming to tell him that they were still working and would head straight for the mini bar.

Out of his peripheral, he watched Sebastian turn the corner and stop. He looked exhausted of his energy and somewhat tattered, but that was something Jim had been accustomed to seeing after he sent him off on some errand. What struck him was how rattled he looked, but he assumed it was from the amount of caffeine that was more than likely coursing through his system.

"You better come downstairs." Sebastian said hurriedly as he tapped a pen against his thigh.

"If you're dragging me down there for a reason you could handle…" Jim started, but was soon cut off.

Sebastian had disappeared behind the corner and opened the door. "Mycroft got a call from his people in London. They caught a tracking signal from Anthea ten minutes ago."

He barely had time to process exactly what the sniper said, but he had registered 'tracking signal' and 'Anthea' in the same sentence. The door had closed by time he pulled himself out of the chair. It jerked open and nearly slammed shut as he left spotting Sebastian more than half way down the hall, turning into the open elevator. Jim rushed down the hall and caught the closing doors with his arm. They opened once again so he could stare at the man inside. "Why did the message take so long to get here?"

"I don't know. I didn't think to ask since you seemed so eager before. Act first ask later type of attitude." Sebastian replied, stepping aside. "Just get in the elevator like you know you're going to."

Jim swallowed part of his heart that had been sitting at the bottom of his throat and stepped inside to let the doors close. He neglected to acknowledge the turn in his stomach that had developed since he had left the room.

As the elevator descended he thought about the outcome of Anthea sending out a message. How much risk she may have taken, but he knew she was clever. She would not have sent one out if she knew it would precarious. Her situation must not be as severe as everyone was thinking, but never said.

Mycroft was easy to figure out. She had known him for years and he was sure to feel protective of her after all that time.

Sebastian was worried even if he was being elusive about it. He would not have stayed if something had not compelled him to stay. There was no pay in it for him, so why else would he stay? Just because his boss asked him to was not good enough. There had been plenty of times that he had refused to do a job for this or that reason even with pay. This was different. It was Jim's problem that he had brought Sebastian into it as aid. He was the most reliable person these days and he must have some sort of affectionate emotion towards Anthea or he would have never arrived.

At least Jim was working with people that would not only put half their efforts into this case. Why he cared enough to feel the need to have the right people on this was beyond him. He preferred not to think about why. It stirred unwanted thoughts and emotions he would rather have stayed buried and undisturbed.

The doors opened again once they reached the floor and Jim slipped into the hall first heading for the room Mycroft was working in. One of the security men had stepped out of the door to his destination and moved aside gesturing inside. Mycroft must have timed their arrival perfectly. Hardly a surprise since someone was undoubtedly watching every camera they had in the hotel.

"How exactly do you know that it's her that signal is linked to?" Jim asked, turning into the room and spotting Mycroft sitting at the desk with a laptop in front of him.

"Because everyone valuable enough has their own signal that they can activate in appropriate times of distress." Mycroft answered without looking from the screen. "Had everyone bugged about eight years ago. Proven to very beneficial a number of times."

Sebastian had collapsed onto the couch and dragged a hand down his face trying to rub away the fatigue he was obviously feeling. "Guess this is going smoothly enough." He mumbled, sinking further into the cushions and closing his eyes. Maybe he would not have to moderate the conversation this time.

Jim stopped a few feet from the desk and looked down on Mycroft. "And what about Hart? Did you find him?" There was a little more than a burning desire to find Jacob Hart now that there was something that told him Anthea was well enough.

"Not yet. Shouldn't be much longer." Mycroft still had not looked from the screen. His eyes were fixated on it and never flinched in any direction.

He drew in a long breath. "Disappointing…" The word was punctuated by a beeping noise that came from the laptops speakers.

Mycroft visibly relaxed his shoulders as he moved a finger over the mouse pad. "We have our destination."

Jim stepped closer to the desk, reaching out, and turning the laptop to face him. On the screen was a zoomed in map and in the middle of it was a red dot that was pulsing along with beeping sounds. "That's it." He breathed, feeling part of his chest sink and swell at the same time.

"That's where she is?" Sebastian asked from the couch leaning to one side to see the screen. "How accurate is it?"

"Within a handful of yards or so." Mycroft replied easily as he stood. "Shall we?"

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><p><em>AN - Well, there it is. Not much to say._

_Hope you enjoyed it!_


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Hello, all! Please hold your vegetable throwing until the end of the announcement. I do apologize. Life has been stressful with classes starting again and then me dropping them because I was not happy at all. I've started reading again and it fueled me for writing. So, this should help. Me being out of class. I really can't express how sorry I am, but hopefully the four of you that are still around will enjoy this. Sorry about the many lines. I can't figure out how to enter symbolish spaces. Fanfic just erases them.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. The belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

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><p>Anthea sat up against the wall as usual. There was nothing else to do. She could barely sleep and refused to lie down on the concrete floor again. The few times she did sleep it was in her up right position and something always woke her up. Usually someone walking by the door she was directly across from. No one had returned to her since Alexander had left, but she still felt her anxiety grow with each passing hour. Most of the anxiety stemmed from the fact that she knew her signal was pulsing away. Any of those footsteps could be the sound of a rescue and her heart simultaneously jumped into her throat and stopped beating for those few moments that the footsteps would echo down the hall. Only when they passed would her adrenaline lower again.<p>

"Be patient." She whispered to herself each time. There was no way for a rescue to be instantaneous. Things took time and she had to allow for enough time. It had only been a few hours at most. At least, that's the only amount of time she considered since she could not figure how much time she had actually spent asleep. The less time she thought had went by the more hope it gave her.

The time she spent thinking about this, the less time she spent thinking about how odd she felt. Not odd in the way someone would probably feel being held against their will, but illness odd. Every now and then she would feel a chill run through her body that reached deep into her muscles. It never lasted long. It started who knows how long ago and would only occur at what seemed randomly, but lately they seemed to occur more frequently.

Another bought of tiredness took over her and she let herself sleep before the sound of footsteps opened again. This time they stopped at the door. Even though her heart was back in her throat, she could still feel it pounding against her ribs. When she thought about it, her heart had already been racing as she woke up. Her focus returned to the door before she could give it more thought.

She would not risk sitting up straighter with a hopeful expression across her face. It could possibly give a hint that she was up to something and there was no telling what they would do to her to get her to confess. The most she would risk was a slight half smile to let out her excitement.

When the door opened, Anthea knew from the silhouette that it was not a rescue. Anyone coming through that door for her would be holding a gun and possibly decorated in telltale police, or police like, attire. The figure had none of those things just a bag dangling from his right hand.

"Time to eat again." She expected it to be Charles, but the surprise at hearing Alexander's voice caused her facial expression to change dramatically. "Why so startled?" He set the bag down in front of her before kneeling beside her.

"Thought the next time I'd see you would be accompanied with a gun and not food. Then again, it could be poisoned." Anthea replied smoothly as she looked at him.

He just shook his head. "Don't be silly. I've never used poison." His hand removed a small knife from his pocket. "Sit up. I know you don't want me feeding you."

She did as instructed and suddenly started to worry about the cuts and scrapes on her wrists from when she freed them, to an extent, hours ago. At first nothing happened, but then the zip ties were cut and he moved away from her without another word. Before he returned to the food he stopped at her feet and cut the ties around her ankles. More surprises.

"I figured you'd be hungry today, so I brought you a rather large sandwich." He pulled out something square wrapped in the same paper butchers used to wrap their meats. "Can't have you that malnourished."

After taking the package from him and setting it aside, she pulled her legs toward her so she could examine her ankles. Little red and a little raw, but nothing compared to what her wrists looked like. They were scratched in more than several places. Each one had stopped bleeding as expected, but she wondered if anything had gotten into them when they were bleeding. Her fingers ran over the cuts on one of her wrists before she looked back to Alexander who had started eating what looked like an American burger.

Her mouth opened to ask why he had let both pairs of her limbs free, but decided not to in case he changed his mind. She repositioned so she was sitting Indian style, picked up the package, and held it in her lap as she unwrapped it. It was most definitely a large sandwich. It was stuffed with several different cold cuts, cheese, a few slices of tomato, and lettuce. There was probably a sauce on it somewhere, but she did not care enough to inspect the food that closely. She sunk her teeth into one corner of it and let her eyes close at the taste of real food instead of crackers.

"I'm glad you enjoy it." Alexander said from his seat near her on the floor.

Anthea did not care if she showed a little weakness for food right now. It was what she needed, minus water, and they would have already known that she would react this way. A few more chews and she could swallow the bite easily. "So, what is it today? More interrogation to get me to tell you what I don't know?"

"You know something, but I'm patient and will wait on you to break." He took another bite of his burger.

She held back the eye roll and stuck to focusing on the food in her hands. It was more than satisfying, but she could not seem to find it as satisfying as she should with him sitting there. Choosing to ignore him for the most part, she slowly finished off her sandwich in silence that he seemed comfortable enough with.

Licking some of the tangy sauce that had spilled from the sandwich onto her fingers, she finally looked at him. "Mind if I walk around a little?" The urge to actually move was starting to get to her. Soon she would start twitching and moving around more than necessary.

Alexander was wiping his hands on a napkin he had pulled from the bag. "I don't see why not." The napkin was tossed back into the bag along with the wrappings the burger had come in.

Anthea crumpled up her wrappings then started to stand. She felt a little shaky and was positive her lack of movement and sleep was the reason behind it. Once she was on her feet, she felt more stable and her entire body was thankful. Her back was able to stretch out to its full extent and the blood in her legs finally had gravity to help it move along. She took a few steps to make sure she would not fall over and dropped the wrappings in the bag.

"Feel better?" Alexander asked, half watching her.

She only nodded slowly as she started to walk again letting her muscles become accustomed to moving this way again. There was never a time she had spent all day in bed or on a couch without being sick. If she was healthy, she moved around, worked, house chores, anything to keep her busy. Being tied up and unable to really move without causing damage to herself was something new. It was out of her natural habit. She walked along the wall she had been sitting up against and let her hand trial behind her as her fingers dragged along the wall surface.

When she turned in the corner to walk to the front of the room she heard Alexander clear his throat. "Not too close to the door now."

Anthea laughed softly to herself. "Like I have any chance of escaping and living." She continued half way along the wall before she left it and moved along the middle of the room. There was a very reassuring throb in her limbs, but her heart rate was still too fast. Maybe this was enough excitement for one day. She did not want to sit back down just yet.

Carefully, she lifted one side of her shirt and soon found the bruise left by Charles' kick. It was not as bad as she thought and certainly not enough to cause much internal damage. Lowering her shirt, she peeled the hem of her pants away from her hip and found a worse bruise on her hip from a different kick. Still did not look bad enough to cause major damage since she could move easily.

After examining herself stood and picked at the dirt under her nails. "Any more instructions from your boss yet?"

He shook his head. "Nothing so far. He did say that his orders might be few in number when we got you."

When they got her. It sounded as if she was bought or bid on, but she knew better than that. "So, the plan is to keep me here until further notice?"

"That's the idea for the moment, yes." He stood then and pulled more zip ties out of his pocket. "Mind taking a seat again?"

She did not have a choice, but still stood there cleaning her nails wanting to enjoy the little freedom she had. "Do you plan on killing me?"

"I don't plan on it, but I will." He stepped closer to her. "Now, sit."

Anthea complied, sitting in the spot she had nearly been permanently rooted to the last few days. He bound her wrists first and then moved to her ankles. "If you do kill me, do me a favor?"

Alexander chuckled as he looped and tightened the plastic around her ankles. "And what would that be?"

She felt her whole face harden from the moment he looked at her. "Look me in the eye when you do it."

He did not move for a length of time and only stared at her. She knew if anyone was going to kill her, it would be him. What she also knew was that when Alexander killed anyone, he always did it from behind; straggled, stabbed, shot. It was a weakness that she picked up on in her years of working for him. Now, she could see it. The fear of watching the life leave someone as he killed them. There was no way he would ever be able to go through with it. A high powered, greedy, stone hearted, killer that could not do what real killers did. Cowardly assassin.

Another few moments and he left, taking the bag with him. She was grateful to be alone again, but missed being able to move freely. Content enough that she was allowed to walk; she slouched against the wall that was colder than what she remembered. At first she blamed it on the lack of body heat she was giving it when a bead of sweat rolled down the center of her forehead to the end of her nose. She had failed to notice that she was sweating and more than she should be. As much as she wanted to ignore it, she knew something was wrong. Given her situation she could only rest in order to hopefully give her body more energy. Finding a suitable enough position against the wall, she closed her eyes and slowly fell into sleep.

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><p>Mycroft and Sebastian flew in a private helicopter to the edge of the city before being moved to a car that would follow a convoy of cars filled with MI5 men. Jim had aggressively insisted that Sebastian be in on the raid and when asked what he himself would be doing, he only smiled and told them that he was handling unresolved issues.<p>

It was a half hour flight to the edge of the city and would take at least another hour and half to get to the location that they had received. No doubt that it would be a long drive considering the company Sebastian was in, but he busied himself checking the small arsenal he had strapped to his body. Two .9mm guns on each of his sides in holsters, another strapped to the inside of his ankle, several knives strapped around his waist, and a taser he was checking for the second time.

"Do you always travel so lightly?" Mycroft asked sarcastically, checking his phone again to see how far away they were from the location.

"It's helpful to be prepared." He replied, flipping the taser before sliding it into his pocket. "Especially in my line of work."

Mycroft neglected from furthering the conversation more and simply looked out the window while subtly rubbing the back of his finger under his chin. They had only been on the road there for ten minutes, but every second that ticked by felt like five minutes in Mycroft's mind. As much as he wanted to lecture Anthea on the trouble she had cause, he could not help but feel relieved that she was alive and well. Well enough. No one knew her actual state, but it gave him a comfort to know that she was well enough to activate the bug. He hoped that she would be more reasonable after all of this was resolved. She would return to her home and work and they could put this whole thing behind them. No more harm would come out of it if she just left.

His hope could not become too strong though. He had to remind himself who he was thinking of. Anthea was hard headed when it came to anything personal and was extremely unwavering in her decisions unless something dramatic happened to sway her opinion. This was certainly something dramatic and if it was not enough for her to reconsider then he did not know what would.

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><p>Anthea awoke again, but this time she felt different. It was as if a cold sweat had broken out over her body, but there was no sweat and her hands were trembling a little. There was nothing else to blame. She knew she was ill, but she could not start to guess what she was ill with. The chills were a clue and probably meant fever. Common sense told her that she probably had an infection of some kind, but there was no way for her to tell how serious it was.<p>

She turned so that her uninjured side was pressed up against the wall and curled her legs as close to her chest as possible as a chill suddenly went through her. It was going to be a long wait until her next visit unless she yelled for someone, but how much did she want to deal with them? A moment of consideration went by and she ultimately decided that she did not want to cooperate with any of them. Not to mention she knew her body was strong enough to handle the infection long enough until she could get some kind of treatment.

The side of her head rested against the wall and she closed her eyes again hoping that she would be able to sleep through the worst of it.

* * *

><p>Sebastian checked his watch. Another half hour until they would reach wherever Anthea was. He was starting to become anxious. When he was on a job, he knew the precise location to be, the exact time, and who he was looking for. This time he only knew one out three. It was somewhat out of his element and he found he would much rather be on a roof three hundred yards away. There was no option though. No buildings out here and no way for him to sneak up on one if there was one.<p>

Mycroft had taken to fiddling with the ever present umbrella. He probably kept one with him no matter what, but he could not remember if he had had one with him in the helicopter. Maybe it was already in the car? Out of all things to request be in the car, an umbrella was certainly not something Sebastian would ask for.

"What's making you so restless?" Mycroft asked, breaking the silence in the car.

Sebastian looked at him questioningly.

"That's the third time you've checked your watch in twenty minutes." He replied easily, gesturing to his wrist.

Sebastian shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Never had to wait long to finish a job. Just odd to still be in a car after an hour."

Mycroft only nodded and twirled the umbrella handle in his grasp. They both fell into silence again.

* * *

><p>"Get up!" Was all Anthea heard before she was yanked upward. She was still foggy from sleep and could not make her legs operate which caused her to fall against whoever was pulling her. "What's the matter with you? Move!"<p>

She was able to piece enough together to get words out. "My ankles are tied, you idiot." Her voice was husky from sleep, but she was sure enough that they heard her. She felt herself being propped against a wall and then her legs were free.

"Now, move." Sleep had cleared away enough for her to realize that it was Charles. He pushed her towards the door causing her to stumble and nearly fall over. She could still feel her hands trembling a little along with the fever that had yet to break. The door came into focus as soon as she righted herself, but Charles was quick to grasp her arm and lead her through the door. They headed down the hall like she had the first time with him following behind her. "Where am I going?"

"Shut up." Charles snapped.

Anthea looked at him over her shoulder wondering what had set him off in the past hours or if he was just always sour. Looking back in the direction she was heading, she caught the sight of kicked up dirt outside as they passed a window out of her peripheral vision. She turned her head to get a better look thinking that it was only the wind, but soon saw that there were cars. Official looking cars and several of them. There was no way that they would move her like this. It drew too much attention. It had to be someone coming for her. The realization made her stop mid step and Charles knocked into her back.

"Keep moving or I'll drag you by your hair." He threatened, pushing her again.

"They're coming for me…." She said softly only moving enough to turn towards the window.

Charles was becoming more frustrated. "I said move!"

As he went to shove her, she flattened herself against the window so that he lost his balance and stumbled down the hallway. There was not much she could do with her hands bound, but she was not going to go anywhere else while her rescue was right outside the door.

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><p>Every car came to a skidding halt when they were close enough to the isolated building. It was not very large or even small. Looked more like the size of house that had been abandoned years ago with the exception that the roof was flat and one side had a massive hole in it.<p>

A strategy had been planned over radios that were in each car since they would have no cover to hide under. The basic understanding was that everyone in the building should remain alive unless self-defense was needed and that order was even laid on Sebastian whose only charge was getting Anthea.

Before every car had stopped, MI5 men had left the cars, along with Sebastian, all armed and rushing towards the building. It took less than thirty seconds for the first group to get to the door and soon they were all filing in apart from another group that went around each side to enter through the back entrance if there was one.

Mycroft stayed with the car, but exited it to get a better look at the commotion and also to listen for any gun shots. It would not take long to find everyone. Not with the man power he had with him.

* * *

><p>Something crashing through a door caused Anthea to take her eyes off of Charles who did not become distracted. He took the opportunity and knocked into her with his shoulder sending her down a flight of stairs.<p>

She had held up on her own for a few minutes, but she had been running out of ideas. Now, there were sharp pains all over her body where she had hit the edge of some of the steps. When she stopped, she had landed on her side with her front nearly smashed into the wall. For a moment, she was sure she could see stars, but that faded when she was forcefully turned over.

She laid there staring at a somewhat blurry Charles who was looming over her. Her mind was telling her body to move, but it would not react fast enough. Everything was sore in some way, she felt weak, her blurry vision was not helping, and the adrenaline was running low because of her weakness. The next thing she saw clearly was a fist raised into the air and she inhaled quickly hoping she could prepare herself for the new pain.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Someone stopped him from the staircase. She watched him turn his focus away, but still kept most of her attention on the fist above her.

Anthea relaxed when his fist unclenched and only reached for her shoulder. She was pulled into a standing position again and turned to face the stairs. Dizziness had settled in and caused the room to spin. After a few deep breaths she was able to focus properly and finally listen to what Charles was saying to the other person.

"You won't shoot. You can hit her." Charles said smugly.

"I won't? Let's ask her, shall we?" Sebastian's voice finally became clear and she felt overwhelmed with relief. "Anthea, do you think I can shoot him without hurting you?"

Her head lulled a little as she forced herself to look up the stairs. There he was clear as day with a gun pointed at her. It was not so much pointed at her as it was Charles. He must be behind her. She smiled at Sebastian and giggled. "I've seen him shoot a fly on a wall from across the room." It was a lie, but for all she knew it could be true.

"See? I can shoot you." Sebastian cocked the gun as he spoke. "They told me to bring in you people alive, but that doesn't sit well with me." His eyes never left the spot over her shoulder. Trained killer.

"You won't shoot if it's against orders." Charles retorted surely feeling accomplished.

Sebastian smirked. "Yeah, but I'm not part of that organization. My boss would tell me to shoot."

Anthea had recovered enough to know that she probably had one good shot left in her. She could not tell if Sebastian was actually going to shoot and if he did not, she would have to do something. Charles could easily snap her neck before anyone got near her.

One calming breath and she made her move. She pulled against his restraint on her which happened to be her tied wrists and bent her elbows so that when she backed into him, they drove into his diaphragm. He doubled over almost immediately, letting go of her wrists. Instead of sprinting up the steps like any normal person would do, she turned to face him and side stepped so that her kick would dislocate his knee. He sunk to the ground with a shout of pain.

Sebastian was by her side almost instantly and was starting to lead her up the stairs while keeping his eyes and gun on Charles. "You really are feisty."

"Sebastian, could you please take these things off?" Anthea asked weakly.

He stopped watching Charles for a moment before lowering his gun and putting it into one of the side holsters. A knife slipped out of its sheath, broke the zip ties, and slipped back into its proper place in almost two seconds. The gun was back out and trained on the previous target.

"Don't worry about him. He won't go anywhere anytime soon on his own." She assured him, taking his arm and leading him away from the man.

He considered her words and agreed with them after a moment. The gun lowered as he took a proper look at her. "Are you alright? You look…. Well, I'll be honest. You look awful."

Anthea could only imagine what she looked like. Her eye was probably still bruised and more marks were surely appearing where she had collided with a step. "It got a little rough."

"No, I'm not talking about that." He placed his hands around her neck gently as he looked over her face and rand his thumbs along where her glands were. "You're burning up and you're pale." The look on his face told her it must have been more serious than she thought. He looked genuinely concerned. His hands dropped and moved to her arms. He lifted her wrists then suddenly dropped them and scooped her up bridal style. "You need a hospital."

She felt too exhausted to argue with him. Her head leaned against his shoulder and she considered falling asleep again, but he shook her a little. "No, no sleeping."

"Why?" Anthea hardly whined, but after what had happened and how she felt, she thought she deserved it. A gust of air told her they had gone outside where there was certainly a very distressed boss waiting for her.

"What happened?" His voice pierced through everything else. It was like when she was a kid and she could pick out her mother calling her even if she was in a crowd of a hundred people.

"She needs a hospital. Now." Sebastian told him quickly. His voice was starting to fade away even though she was pressed into him.

The sound of a car door being shut and she opened her eyes to see a back ceiling above her. There was someone sitting next to her head, so she angled her neck a little to get a look. "Hello, sir." She never thought seeing Mycroft would be so soothing, but she was happy he was here.

He looked down at her just before she closed her eyes and slipped into very welcomed sleep.

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><p><em>AN: There we have it. I enjoyed writing again and I hope it was decent enough for those of you that stuck through till the end. _

_Unless I have a little more creative juice left in me, there's only two chapters left._

_I'd be very grateful for any reviews, but I understand if you don't leave any._


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Hello, everyone. I know it's kind of useless to apologize, but I'll do it anyway. I'm sorry. But I'm giving you two chapters in one day. Well, one and half chapters. After this chapter is the end. I'll continue my parting words to you there.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. They belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

* * *

><p>Opening her eyes, Anthea could not make out anything. Everything was blurry, bright, and not to mention that she still felt dizzy. Keeping her eyes open took more effort than she recalled, so she opted just to keep them closed until she felt more like herself. Her curiosity always got the better of her plan though. Any remote noise or shift in the air around her would cause her eyes to open for a few seconds and then shut again. Lying in what she assumed was some type of bed, she felt weak. There were a few times when she tried to move her hand or arm, but her mind did not seem to want to cooperate with voluntary movements.<p>

Within a short amount of time of her first waking up, she started to hear again and now that enough time had passed, she could pick out which sounds belong to what. Footsteps were one of the first things she recognized. They would draw near her, stop, and then move away. It did not tell her much. The next sound was a faint, steady beeping noise that was coming from her right side. Every now and then a sort of rustling sound would come from somewhere near her, but she could not pick out exactly what it was.

Smell and touch came back to her at about the same time. What she assumed was a bed at first turned out to be right, but not a bed she would normally lay on. There was also a soft fabric under her fingers which her mind decided on as a blanket. Everything smelt clean.

When she made that conclusion she remembered someone mentioning hospital right before she fell asleep. Her mind racked her memories trying to remember exactly what happened, but the only thing she could remember clearly was that room she was being kept in. Everything after Charles coming to get her was foggy and only came back to her in bits and pieces.

Panic set in as she considered that she was still being held by Alexander. She could distinctly remember the feeling of relief even if she could not exactly remember why she felt it. The panic set off her heart rate and the beeping noise started to speed up along with it. The rustling sound came again along with hurried footsteps.

"Everything is fine, Señor." A woman said calmly off to her right where the beeping sound was located. "She may be waking up or just dreaming."

Something very cold touched her chest above her heart. Stethoscope. The sensation would have caused her to jolt normally, but her body could not even react to that. Her fingers only twitched some before a hand closed over them. The stethoscope moved a few times before it was gone. She felt a hand touch her forehead before her eyelid was opened forcefully so a brighter light could be shined into it. Luckily, her body had decided it had strength enough to move her pupil away from the light.

A familiar voice spoke to her when she moved her eye. "Anthea? It's okay." Mycroft. It calmed her some now that there was no doubt she had been rescued.

"Try to open your eyes." The woman said.

It took her a few moments, but she finally got her eyes to stay open. Everything was not as blurry as the last few times she tried to survey her surroundings. Most of everything was clear. Blurry edges and her farsightedness had not come back yet, so the ceiling and light above her looked like static.

"Good." The woman smiled down at her. She had black hair and a kind face with the stethoscope draped around her neck. "I'm Dr. Garza. You've been asleep for a little while." She looked away from her at something above the bed. "The IV in your arm is antibiotics to keep the infection away. You suffered from slight internal bleeding on your left side, but everything will be fine. Mr. Holmes hired the best in four countries and you'll be able to go home soon. Just take it easy when you leave."

Anthea did not have anything to say in response to the woman. Everything important she wanted to ask or say could not be answered by her.

"Thank you, doctor." Mycroft said calmly. She gave a nod and left the room without another word. "I assume you know we're still in Chile."

"How long was I asleep?" She asked feeling how rough her voice was. Before she could ask, Mycroft had already gotten up and moved to the side of the room. He returned with a bottle of water and a small paper cup.

"Since the rescue? A day and half. It's nearly midnight now." He handed her the paper cup half full of water.

She looked over his shoulder where a window was, but the blinds were closed. Her eyes moved to the IV in her arm. "What was the infection?" The water soothed her throat as she sipped at it.

"They tell me it would have turned into blood poisoning if we were any later and of course from the surgery." He leaned against the back of his chair, umbrella across his lap.

The tone in his voice suggested he wanted to lecture her again, but he seemed to be holding it back for now and she was thankful. First, her situation with Jim. Then the kidnapping. Being reunited with a former employer. And now she learned she could have had blood poisoning. Today was an ideal day for lectures, but she did not think her mental strength could handle any more stress, especially from someone who was a friend of sorts.

"When do I get to leave?" She started to set the cup on the table beside her when she noticed bandages wrapped around her wrist. Lifting her other hand, there was an identical bandage. It dawned on her that the infection probably started in one or both of her wrists. Considering the outcome, she did not regret it.

Mycroft took the cup from her and poured more water in it before setting it on the table. "Tomorrow. Late morning."

"I'm guessing we'll have some sort of talk soon." Anthea replied with a light tone hoping to ease some of the tension in the room. It did not work.

"Yes, but we'll save it for when your health is fully restored." He stood and made his way toward the door. "Oh, and there's someone that wanted to see you. I'll send him in for a few minutes."

She nearly sat bolt upright, but the blood rushing around her head caused her to ease back down onto the pillow. Taking it easy was going to be more than difficult for her. Once the pain ebbed, she stared to look for the remote that controlled the bed. It felt as if she had been lying in one position for about a week and she wanted to sit up at least somewhat. The remote was dangling off of one side of the bed. She pulled it to her by the chord and then started to fiddle with the buttons trying to figure out how to raise the head of the bed. First, she somehow lowered herself further before she started to ascend and that was when she saw a blonde head peering into the room through the open door.

"You finally figured it out. Bravo." Sebastian said smugly, moving himself into the room.

Anthea just made a face at him as he took the chair Mycroft had been sitting in. She turned off the remote when she felt she was sitting upright enough and laid it beside her. A very brief and cloudy memory came to her when she looked at him again. "You helped get me out."

He only nodded in reply.

"And he wasn't there." She uttered accidently. It was supposed to be a private thought, but it somehow slipped out.

"Don't think much on that." Sebastian stated. "He would have been there."

"Yeah, sure he would." Anthea said sarcastically as she picked at the blanket. She felt a little angry about it and she knew perfectly well why, but she still did not want to acknowledge it yet. "There are more important things out in the world."

He rolled his eyes with laugh. "Try telling him that." Before she could say anything he held up his hand to her. "Actually, don't, you'll probably get a very confusing reply. Just save yourself the headache there."

"How do you know?" She felt like she was back in the house cleaning one of Sebastian's guns.

"I've worked with him longer than anyone and I've seen him do this sort of thing before." He continued when she looked at him questioningly. "Well, not exactly this. Take away the freak kidnapping and the government part. Other people have come along, but it's a little different with you."

"How different?" She felt like she might regret asking.

"Take the kidnapping for example." He turned his chair partly towards the wall behind him then leaned back in it and propped his feet up on the bed near her own. "He could have just left you, but didn't. He could have left your boss to do all the work, but didn't. He could have…"

"Yes, but where is he now?" Anthea asked cutting him off, wearing a very worn expression.

"I honestly have no clue. He said he had to resolve some issues as soon as we located where your signal was coming from." He smiled almost winningly at her. "Very well done, by the way. Neither of us expected that. Mind telling him where your boss found that tech once this is all over." For good measure, he batted his eyelashes a few times.

The smile she could handle, but the batting eyelashes forced a smile out of her before she rolled her eyes. "Ha ha very funny. And then I'll give him the access to NATO."

Sebastian perked up with wide eyes. "Do you actually know how to do that?"

"Now, Sebastian. You of all people should know a girl never gives away her best tricks." Anthea sunk down in her bed with a content smile.

"I don't think Jim can handle you for very long." He pulled his feet off the bed and slid his chair closer to the bed. "I think you and I could…"

Her hand covered his mouth before he could finish. "Don't make me strangle you with this IV cord." She felt him smile beneath her hand before she removed it.

"Still was worth a shot." He stood and pushed the chair against the wall. "Pretty sure you'll be out of here by late morning." The few minutes of visiting time must be up. He walked toward the door and opened it as he turned to look back at her. "I'll see you back home." With a wink he left letting the door close quietly behind him.

Anthea sighed heavily and looked towards the window again wishing the blinds were open so she could see out. Pulling the blanket down she discovered she was wearing a hospital gown. She figured her clothes must be somewhere in the hospital if not in the bathroom that was to her right. Carefully, she slipped the gown up above her hip that was badly bruised from the kick she received three days ago. A few more inches of her skin was revealed along with the start of a red mark along her waist. Lifting the gown a little more, she found where the surgeons had gone in. An angry red line decorated with black stitches There was no doubt that it was tender, so she refrained from touching it.

Her hand had rested across her stomach instead of touching it. Another slight shock of emotion fell upon her. A few days ago, she had been carrying a child. One that she was not even sure about. One that had been taken from her before she could make up her mind about what to do. She knew it would have been for the best if the child had not know their parents, but some of her maternal instinct was still lingering. She wondered what the child might have been like. Who's personality traits would have dominated in them. The tears started to form along the edge of her eyes as her hand carefully rub her stomach as she thought, but she quickly blinked them away. She could waste her life wondering about ifs, so she resolved to never give it so much thought again. There was nothing she could do now.

After righting the gown and pulling the blanket over her, she started to think of what she might do for the rest of the night. There was nothing to read and no one to talk to. She did not want to sleep anymore because of a feeling that something might happen while she slept. Boredom soon took over which added to the tiredness she felt.

Giving in was no problem. She found the right button that would lower the top half of the bed down and started to roll on her left side. The pain from the bruise hit her before she could stretch the stitches She rolled onto her back again and sighed. Without even considering trying her other side, she closed her eyes and slowly fell back asleep.

* * *

><p>Waking up this time was easier. There was no fog to fight through that was more than likely the anesthetic wearing off. It turned out that she had slept through half of the morning and the nurse checking in on her said that she would be discharged in about an hour.<p>

New clothes had been brought to her at some time and were lying on the end of her bed off to the side. She took great care in moving around so that the stitches were not disturbed too much. After a minute or two she was standing and collecting the clothes. Thankfully the IV had been removed from her arm so that she wouldn't have to roll the stand along with her. In the bathroom she looked at the clothes in her hands and discovered that they were only basic sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, and moccasin like shoes, but they were most definitely hers. She could tell from the way they smelt; fresh lavender. The fabric softener she used when she was home. Making a mental note to thank whoever it was, she could not be sure if it was Mycroft or Jim at this point, she got dressed, left the gown on the bed, and left the room heading slowly down the hall to the nurses' station where she would get directions out of here.

Anthea left with a strict warning to take it easy and a bag full of prescriptions; antibiotics, anti-inflammatory, and narcotics. One of Mycroft's security men was there to pick her up and drive her to the airport. Mycroft knew that she was not the type that would want coddling to. After her first visit with surgeons, he knew that she wanted to be on her feet and back to being busy as soon as she could. The man driving her to the airport did not even ask how she was feeling and she was thankful for it. She only sat in the back of the car and watched the people on the streets as they went by.

She did not dare think about Jim in fear that some part of her would start to wonder why he was not around and then start to feel angry. Her body could not handle it right now and she did not want to handle it anyway. If everything played out right, she could go back to her flat and pretend it was all a bad dream. But she did want to see him. That was the kink in her plan to returning home. Sooner or later one of them would find the other.

Flying back to London was quiet. There was no one else on the plane apart from the pilots, stewardess, and the security man that had driven her. Mycroft left her a note saying that he wanted her to rest on the way back and not to worry. Along with the note came a gift wrapped box. After opening it, she could not resist the giggle that broke through. A new phone already programmed with every bell and whistle she could possibly need. After the first few phones that were either broken or compromised, she set up a specific hard drive that held all the backed up information from her phone to be transferred to the new one. No more fiddling around with it to get it just right.

For the majority of her fifteen hour flight over the Atlantic, Anthea did in fact rest. As active as she wished she could be, her body was not going to cooperate. The entire ordeal was still weighing on her and she found herself wanting a restful sleep that did not consist of concrete or drugs. After fetching a blanket from above her head, she reclined her seat, set her new phone on the small table next to her, and curled onto her good side to doze off into a welcome dreamless sleep.

She awoke when the pilot had come over the intercom to announce they would be landing in less than an hour. Stiffness had resumed in her limbs, but it was not nearly as painful as it was in that room because of the cushioned luxury chair of the government jet. The security man had to help her out of the chair because of the stiffness and extra effort she had to use that was threatening to mess with the stitches. Once she was on her feet, she was fine.

Thanking both pilots and the security man for their time and help, she exited the jet and descended the steps that led to a silver sedan. She stopped about half way down while trying to remember where she had seen the car before. The back door opened before she could think on it more and the penny dropped in her mind.

"Don't you look radiant?" Jim asked smugly as he stepped out of the car.

Anthea felt most of what energy she gained from her rest drain out of her. She could not handle his attitudes right now. The only thing on her mind was finding a comfortable place to reside during her recovery. "Not now. What do you want?" She asked sharply, starting her descent again.

He only smiled at her which she found annoying. "Snippy. I thought you'd be more relaxed."

"Well, you were wrong then, weren't you?" The steps ended nearly three feet from him. Out of annoyance she glanced around to see if another car was somewhere else. Nothing. "What are you doing here anyway?"

His head tilted slightly to one side and narrowed his eyes. "I thought that was obvious."

Her hands covered her face then raked through her hair. "Look, I'm not exactly the happiest person on this side of the hemisphere at the moment and you pushing buttons is not helping. So, if you don't mind do shut up while I find my way out of here."

"I am your way out of here." Jim replied calmly as he pushed open the door he had come out of.

Despite her frustration, she had to take a pause and process what he said. Most of it came together in her mind, but some did not. "Why?"

"Because I helped Mycroft." He leaned against the driver's door and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Helped him do what exactly?" Curiosity always won out over impatience. She never could figure out why.

"Find you and… what's a good word?" He paused took look at the ground in between him. "Eradicate those who took you." His demeanor changed into something more relaxed than the usual superior aura that followed him around.

Anthea felt nervous with this new knowledge. She knew how much Mycroft would know. It would be nearly everything. Down to each family history if he wanted. Jim, however, could be kept somewhat out of the loop. Some of her life's secrets could still be safe, but what would change really? He already knew that she could make a decent criminal with the connections she had and what level of access she had to the heart of the government. A criminal history only smudged, or in his view, polished it more.

She decided to worry about it if it was ever mentioned. "Who did plan that whole thing?" Alexander did not plan it. She remembered him saying 'his boss' and 'hired'.

"Someone that was holding a grudge against me." Jim looked back at her again. "Revenge. That sort of thing."

"Was?" She never missed which words he used and what tense he put them in.

"Yes, well, while you were recovering I was handling them." The superior aura was coming back.

That answered the question about him not being in hospital. It was a haunting question, but it was answered and she could forget about it now and forget why she wanted to know. There was the opportunity to ask Sebastian when he saw her, but he probably did not know then. This sounded like something personal and you do not send someone else to do your personal work. Some small part of her forgave him.

She was starting to become tired again. Not all of her recovery was done in the hospital just the crucial part of it. "So, you're my way out. Where are you taking me?"

"Wherever you want to go." He stood straight again, gesturing into the car.

"The nearest bed." Her arms wrapped around her waist as she walked toward the car. The phone was still grasped in her hand.

"My place it is." He slid into his seat after her and ordered the driver to return home.

Anthea was content just to watch the world through the window as she did in Chile, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him turn toward her. "What now?"

Jim smiled politely, but could do nothing to hide the light in his eyes. "So you robbed a Swiss bank?"

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><p><em>AN: Onward to the next chapter. Oh, I hope you enjoyed this one. _:)

_Review for both are much appreciated. Or if you want to do a combined one._


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: And so continues my parting words.

I feel like I should go through and call you all out on what wonderful people you have been, but I feeling that you may just want to read. And I can't list everyone because there are those who don't or can't leave reviews. For those, you are equally wonderful people because you chose to read and kept reading my ridiculous story. I love each and every one of you and I hope these last two chapters were not a big disappointment. If they are... I won't know what to do.

Thank you all for your support and kind words. They have meant a lot to me. And now, to the end!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sherlock or its characters. they belong to Mr. Mark Gatiss and Mr. Steven Moffat.

* * *

><p>Sebastian stood on the other side of the bar pouring himself a drink. "Plan on going back to work, Anthea?"<p>

The paper in her hands lay against the bar surface as she chewed on the pen she had used to start a crossword. "Yeah, just haven't settled on when." She folded the paper feeling that she had been through everything she needed. Life had settled, as much as it could, again. Things were still hectic, but the usual hectic that she had been conditioned to deal with. Her boss was still dependent on her and the men she was living with still caused most of the chaos in a five hundred mile radius, but she was comfortable. She had the option to go back to her new flat, the keys delivered to her by Mycroft a week ago when she went in for a mandatory checkup.

More tension had been growing between Anthea and Mycroft, but it never seemed to get in the way. She had neglected to make a decision and was still avoiding it. From what she could tell, there was no real harm being done by her being where she was. It only seemed to make those opposed to it uncomfortable. Afraid she would swap sides or leak information. The reality was that Jim never asked or pressured her. He always told her that there was nothing she already knew or would know of that he would not be able to obtain. She was company to him. No more, no less.

The subject of her pregnancy was never brought up. It remained a topic that everyone silently agreed not to discuss for the benefit of all involved. Mycroft had hinted at asking about it, but she quickly warned him against it and assured him that she was fine even though she still found herself up late wondering what would have happened if the miscarriage had not happened.

"I'm sure I could find something for you." Sebastian replied, sipping at his drink with a subtle smirk.

"I have no doubt, but you might want to be careful with your word choice." Anthea glanced at Jim who was in the sitting room reclined in a chair with his phone. His eyes had moved from the screen to narrow at the sniper. As much as Sebastian joked with her, it still seemed to get under Jim's skin somehow.

"When are you going to learn I'm only joking?" Sebastian asked, rolling his eyes and rounding the bar to stand next to her.

She turned on her seat to face Jim and watched him take a breath that was only slightly different from a regular breath. It was no longer and no deeper, but it seemed to relax whatever new tension gathered in his body. She wondered if it was something he did more often than she was privileged to see. "I don't think he has that particular sense of humor. I would have thought you knew that being as thick as thieves."

A subtle amused smile formed on Jim's face when he looked away from them. "Nice one." Sebastian commented flatly, taking a larger sip. "Still, I'm sure you'll get bored at some point. There's not much around here that would be up your alley of interest."

He was right. As much as Anthea had begun to admire what Jim did no matter how destructive or wrong it was, she could take no joy from participating. There was the option of doing what the unemployed did, but that only made her feel useless. She had been away from work for nearly a month to recover from the injuries that were taking longer to heal and she could feel the restlessness starting to crawl on her skin. "I'll figure out something."

"And in the meantime, no moving the furniture." Jim had risen from his chair and was leaning on the door frame.

Anthea sighed, running a hand through part of her hair. "I moved an end table. When are you going to let that go?"

"Here we go again..." Sebastian immediately moved away from her and to the other side of the bar to be out of range of any crossfire.

The end table had been moved when she was unable to get up as much as she wanted, so she had moved an end table next to the couch so that most of what she would need would be in reach. Jim had not taken it well, but said nothing to her until she was well enough to no longer need it. It was an ongoing fight that had not escalated past a few remarks.

"If you recall, I did put it back exactly where it was." She turned her back to the bar so she could slouch against it.

"Besides the point." Jim had walked into the kitchen and laid his phone next to the discarded paper.

"I give up." Her eyes closed, shaking her head a little wondering why she always felt the urge to defend her reasoning for moving an end table. She never won.

Sebastian's chuckle sounded from behind her. He had moved to make himself another drink. "You're finally learning, Anthea. Good for you."

Jim stood next to her as he reached over the bar to grab a bottle. "I would have thought she would pick up on it sooner." She could picture the exact expression he was wearing and when she turned to look, she was right. The strange mixture of arrogance and triumph that was still sinister. There was doubt that there was anything about him that was pure and innocent. Everything had to have just a dash of trouble. "Maybe she's not as smart as we think?" He had somehow acquired a glass and was pouring the bottle's contents into it.

Once the glass was full to his liking, he set the bottle down, but she reached the glass before he could. "You don't want to play that game, James." She tasted the drink and was slightly surprised to find out it was brandy instead of whiskey.

Jim took the glass from her grip and sipped at it before handing it back. "I think it would be fun. It would give us something to do when we're bored."

"When you're bored." She corrected quickly. There was never a reason for her not to be entertained in this house. Confinement was another matter.

"Technicality." He propped himself on the bar stool next to hers reaching over to drag the paper over. It unfolded and was flipped through until he found current affairs.

Anthea had left her seat and started for the fridge leaving the glass behind. It was always full of food, but she still found herself not wanting anything in it. She did, however, find something to settle for. Leftovers from something Jim had made the night before that did not end up ruined.

Sebastian had finished off his second drink. "Well, I'll let you two quibble over end tables and boredom. I have some recon work to do." He slipped by her easily, but winked at her in the process. She returned it as she fished out the leftover food onto a plate. Since the hospital it had become a sort of display of affection. One that was safe from Jim's wrath.

"You didn't develop a taste for snipers during your time at the hospital, did you?" Jim asked without looking up from the paper.

She laughed softly, sliding the plate into the microwave. "Would you be jealous?"

"No, I just don't want to have to find a new one." He sounded slightly tense under the relaxed tone.

"So, jealous." An exasperated sigh came from behind her. "Alright, not jealous just inconvenienced." The microwave beeped once at the end of its time and she withdrew the plate. It had been awhile since Jim had cooked anything. She had been doing most of it and was relieved when she found him over the stove the previous night.

After finding a fork and returning to her seat, she picked at her meal. "You should cook more." She could not tell what sauce he used, but she knew it brought out every other flavor. "And learn not to forget that you are cooking."

"You think so?" It was not really a question. He was half distracted by whatever he was reading.

"Yes, you're an excellent chef." She looked at him from the corner of her eye knowing that any compliment he got would gain her a moment of attention.

Jim angled his head toward her slightly and he watched her. There was no telling what he was thinking, but it was not the first time he had randomly started to watch her. It no longer made her anxious. She stuck a few pieces of food with her fork and offered it to him. He let a real smile slip out, one that reached his eyes; however, it did not last long. As soon as his mouth closed around the food it vanished.

Now it was her turn to watch him. She had never seen that smile before. Every other one that she had seen always had something hiding behind it. People assumed that he could not feel a positive emotion or if he did he could not express it, but she just witnessed it. Perhaps the rarest thing on the planet. She did her best to lock that image away regardless of how things turned out. It was not long before she realized that her chest was swelling with a familiar feeling of subtle adoration and she knew it had leaked onto her face because he was studying her. The first instinct was to look away, but she made herself stay. What did it matter now?

His jaw tightened seeming like he had figured out what she was thinking. A moment passed before the tension released in his face and he turned back to the paper. "Don't expect me to say it. Ever."

Anthea returned to her food. "You expect me to?" She felt him look at her again before she saw it. Her focus stayed on her food refusing to participate in whatever silent conversation that could happen. He soon looked away from her again.

Time went by and neither of them said anything. He continued to read whatever article in the paper that had his interest. She was able to eat her food with an odd sense of peace settling over her. It made her feel relieved and happy. So much in fact that she started to hum a tune her mother had always lulled her to sleep with. When she cleared the plate of food, she picked it up, and carried it to the sink for it to be washed.

Jim had moved quietly. Too quietly because she jumped a little when he carefully took hold of her wrist before sliding his hand into hers. He took a step away from her and pulled on her arm beckoning her to follow him. There was no reason not to, so she followed without question into the sitting room where he stopped in front of the couch and gestured for her to take a seat at the end closest to her. Letting go of his hand, she sat down and made herself comfortable. She looked up at him and in one fluid movement he was lying on the couch with his head resting easily in her lap. He had his head tilted toward her and was looking at the area of her stomach where the stiches had been.

His eyes soon moved to her face. "Hum the tune again."

Anthea felt like laughing because that was going to be one of the few most polite demands she would ever hear from him, but she kept it inside and started to hum again. As soon as she did, his eyes had closed and he looked vulnerable. Instead of dwelling on it, she gently combed her fingers through his hair, humming softly, and watching him slowly fall asleep.

_Fin_

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><p><em>AN: Well, there you have it. Thank you all again._

_P.S. I am considering doing prompts. Little one-shots for anyone that has something they would like to read. So, if you think of anything please to let me know via private message or my tumblr. - cleverspinster._


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